


Off the Battlefeild

by orangecreme



Series: The New Empire [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Accidental Flirting, Affectionate Insults, Aftermath of Torture, Alien Mythology/Religion, Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - No Game, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Alternia-Focused, Angst, Angst and Feels, Ankle Cuffs, Apologies, Arguing, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Avoidant Personality Disorder, Awkward Crush, Awkwardness, Background Relationships, Blasphemy, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Boundaries, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Carnival, Chucklevoodoos, Clowns, Consensual Mind Control, Crushes, Cult of the Signless Sufferer, Dark Humor, Dark Past, Death, Decapitation, Developing Relationship, Diplomacy, Dreams and Nightmares, Embarrassment, Emotional Roller Coaster, Established Relationship, Everyone Has Issues, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Fear, Feelings Jams, Fictional Religion & Theology, Fights, First Crush, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gamzee Makara/Karkat Vantas Moirallegiance, Good Moirail Gamzee Makara, Gore, Guilt, Hair Brushing, Heresy, I think?, Idiots in Love, Implied Death Wish, Implied Mental Link, Implied Partial Mind Meld, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Capture, Implied/Referenced Coercion, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Force, Implied/Referenced Indoctrination, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Implied/Referenced Minor Character(s) Death(s), Implied/Referenced Past Genocide, Implied/Referenced Prophetic Visions, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Karkat Swearing, Killing, Literal Sleeping Together, Long-Distance Relationship, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Captives, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Violence, Mentons of Blood, Mind Manipulation, Mindfuck, Minor Auspisticism, Minor Kismesissitude, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Negotiations, Nervousness, Night Terrors, Original Character(s), Other, POV Karkat Vantas, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Panic, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Partial Mind Control, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Bad Decisions, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Past Extinction, Past Tense, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psionics, Psychological Horror, Public Display of Affection, Rainbow Drinker Kanaya Maryam, Rainbow Drinkers, Referenced Trials, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Reveal, Relationship(s), Religious Conflict, Religious Content, Religious Discussion, Reminiscing, Restraints, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Romanticism, Scars, Scary Clowns, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sharing Clothes, Shoosh-Papping, Sunburn, Swearing, Telepathy, Threshecutioner Karkat, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Troll Biology (Homestuck), Violence, Violent Thoughts, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Weirdness, maybe? - Freeform, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-06-08 11:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 96,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15242163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangecreme/pseuds/orangecreme
Summary: Karkat Vantas has been through hell and back, multiple times. When he was young-You know what, he doesn't have fucking time for this vague and confusing philosophical bullshit. Like seriously, is his inner realizations about how much his life might change important to anybody? He highly fucking doubts it!This shit is what someone who actually cared about fate would do, say something ultimately pointless and seem *mysterious*. Fucking bravo. But Karkat knows fate is almost as fake as magic, so he doesn't waste his time wondering if the cosmos will line up perfectly for something important to happen, or whatever it is someone who believes in fate would say.Screw waiting for fate or miracles, Karkat has a job to do and he can't waste any time on things like that.





	1. Chapter 1

You wander out of the docking bay so that Gamzee can leave for his circus. Your face is burning to hell and back from what just happened. That was. What the fuck was that. How does this clown keep on taking you by surprise like this?

You thought his mushy oversentimental statements were the epitome of saccharinity he was capable of on the spur. So of course, he had to prove you wrong. Even if you’re pretty sure he didn’t _intentionally_ prove you wrong. Either way, the last thing you expected was for him to kiss the palm of your hand and utter what seemed like a prayer of some sort.

You honestly don’t even know how to process this. Kissing the palm of a calming half of a moirallegiance fucking _embodies_ the picturesque tenderness of fictional pale romance. Where the fuck did he even get the idea to do that? He doesn’t seem interested in romance novels or movies like you. Does he, does he even realize that it’s an over-the-top romantic gesture? You have this itching sensation in the back of your skull that says he simply did whatever he felt like was right in the moment. Plus, he _prayed_ to his fucking _gods_ , on your behalf or something like that, asking to keep you safe and serene until he returned. You might not believe in his or any religion, but you’d have to be an idiot to not understand that praying for something is an important thing, so of course you are having an emotional convulsion over that as well.

You hear a door creak open and you hear a voice say, “So.”

You glance over to see Diwuri sneering at you, exiting from the door that leads to the docking bay’s control block. Diwuri is one of your oldest lieutenants, he’s been around since before you were named the general of the threshecutioners. He’s a laid-back cobalt who fights with fan kind, and one of the few who fought alongside you to remove the old general from their position.

His voice is laced with suggestive tones as he says, “That looked pretty damn _emotional_ , eh, Martinet?”

You point at him and hiss, “You, you can shut the fuck up and pretend you saw nothing, because that’s exactly what it was, it was fucking nothing. And even if it was something, it was none of your damned business, so either way fuck right the hell off.”

Diwuri snickers, “Right, right, whatever you say. Damned reserved jackass. Anyway, you just missed those trolls, the ones you asked us to tell you when they arrived. Like it was literally so close that we were just about to send you a message when you showed up here with that subjugglator.”

“Oh shit,” you mutter, “thanks for letting me know Diwuri. Guess I have to go make sure that those idiots behave themselves.”

Diwuri snorts and mutters, “Yeah, have fun with that.”

You groan quietly as you walk away to deal with whatever annoying bullshit inevitably ends up happening. Since the other generals and Feferi were waiting for Vriska to show up, everyone stayed in your training compound.  Your pupahood hatefriends, all their hatefriends, all _their_ hatefriends, etcetera. Whatever, one troll from each caste, except purple since Gamzee just left. Lucky bastard is not going to have to deal with the inevitable chaos.

Even being able to see Kanaya again after so long has little payoff given everything else. ‘Everything else’ mostly meaning having to deal with Vriska and Terezi. You’ve never liked Vriska, and Terezi is. A complicated subject. As usual. If you’re lucky, Terezi will want to avoid you as much as you want to avoid her. A small part of you wishes Gamzee _was_ here, because then maybe he could keep you in a better mood. Then again, the rational part of your pan tells you that he’d probably cause more issues just by being a blundering dumbass. He’s an idiot and an unapologetic asshole, but you can’t even finish that thought without thinking about all his positive traits, and how he’s pitiful as fuck, flaws and all. God damn it to hell, you’re being entirely too sappy, it’s embarrassing as fuck.

You make it to the central area of your training compound, and seeing only your threshecutioners walking about, gives you a hint that everyone might be meeting one of the conference blocks. For fucking _once_. One of the many, many conference blocks. Fuck your life.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] responded to memo board OKAY, WHERE ARE WE HAVING OUR HELL MEETING THIS TIME, ASSHOLES?

CG: SEE THE UNCHANGED NAME OF THIS MEMO TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I’M ASKING AND THEN ANSWER THE QUESTION WITHOUT ANY ILLUSIVE HOOFBEASTMANURE, PLEASE AND FUCKING THANK YOU.

AC: :33< karkat! i was worried afur you disappeared with that asshole!

CG: YES, HELLO NEPETA, THIS IS CLEARLY AN ANSWER TO MY KINDLY WORDED QUESTION. I APPRECIATE THE STRAIGHT-FORWARD AND ABSOLUTELY HELPFUL REPLY, I WILL BE CERTAIN TO ARRIVE IN SHORT NOTICE THANKS TO YOUR ENLIGHTENING INFORMATION.

CT: D--> You will not speak in such an e%clamatory manner to my moirail.

AG: Hahahahahahahaha! As su8tle as ever, Equius!

CG: OH GREAT, WONDERFUL, THIS ENTERTAINING SCHTICK AGAIN. ENDURING THIS IS THE EPITOME OF JOY IN MY LIFE, SURELY. FUCKING HELL, CAN SOMEONE *PLEASE* JUST FUCKING ANSWER ME ALREADY?

AC: :33< ugh can we purrlease focus on if that clown hurt karkat fur like thr33 minutes!? XCC

GC: >:?

GA: Wait

GA: What Is Going On

CG: LONG STORY SHORT, SOME SHIT WENT DOWN. BUT I HANDLED THE SITUATION, AND EVERYONE IS ENTIRELY UNHARMED. THERE, QUESTION ANSWERED, AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. NOW, COULD I GET AN ANSWER TO WHERE THE HELL YOU ALL ARE AT? THAT WOULD BE REFRESHING FOR ONCE.

AA: that is 0ne sh0rt st0ry!

CG: I GUESS FUCKING NOT.

TA: can we fiir2t get an actual an2wer on what iin the fuck that wa2 ye2terniight?

AT: iS gAMZEE, oKAY?

CG: GRAND PULPITEER HAS GONE BACK TO HIS CLOWN FELLOWSHIP OR WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT, AND IS THEREFORE VERY MUCH NOT HERE. SO BY THE SIMPLE FACT THAT HE DOESN’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS? I’D SAY YES, HE IS VERY MUCH FUCKING OKAY.

CG: CAN I GET MY QUESTION ANSWERED FUCKING FINALLY?

AC: :33< how can you pawsibly be worried about that murderer right meow tafuros!

CG: OH MY FUCKING GOD. ARE YOU IGNORING ME, YOU SHITFUCKS?

AT: fISRT OFF, aLL OF US HERE HAVE KILLED OTHERS, sO WE’RE ALL MURDERERS

AT: bUT i CAN BE WORRIED BECAUSE i AM WORRIED, sO GET OVER IT

AT: mY EXACT REASONS, aRE NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS QUITE FRANKLY

AC: :33< *ac hisses very angrily!!* DD:<

CA: wwere in conference block 7o

CG: THANK YOU!

CG: QUITE SERIOUSLY ERIDAN, FUCKING THANK YOU. THANK YOU VERY MUCH, IN RETURN I’LL BE THERE SOON. EVERYONE TRY NOT TO DO ANYTHING MONUMENTALLY STUPID WHILE I’M NOT AROUND.

Luckily for you, conference block seven-o is close by, so it doesn’t take you too long to make it there. Predictably, when you open the door, Feferi is sitting in the seat at the end of the table with Sollux and Eridan sitting on the chairs on either side of her. Aradia, Nepeta, Equius, and Tavros are all on the same side of the table as Sollux. Kanaya, Vriska, and Terezi are all on the same side as Eridan. Everyone is motionless and quiet as they glare at each other. A barely contained stillness that will soon break.

You quietly sigh and take the empty seat at the end opposite from Feferi. There’s only one empty chair, right beside you, and you don’t think about how Gamzee could be here with you. Once you sit, Feferi smiles with her teeth flashing at all of you, “So, now that everyone is here, let’s commence this conference!”

“Everyone isn’t here though,” Vriska cuts in at once, leaning back in her chair and putting her legs up on the table. “From what I understand, the leader of the trolls that attacked us all is strangely absent. Anyone care to explain that?”

Feferi huffs, her fins twitching slightly as she says, “Yes, Grand Highblood –”

“Grand Pulpiteer,” you correct idly, remembering how he seems to dislike being compared to, or confused for, his ancestor.

Feferi scowls at you and says, “Water-ebb-er, who glubbing cares what his title is?”

“Him, every single one of the clowns in that faith, and me,” you reply easily. You glance up to her with your signature political smile and smoothly add on, “As should you, your Empress. Those fucks are crazy obsessed with titles and all that hoofbeastmanure.”

Feferi rolls her gander bulbs and says, “Yeah, o-cray, if you say so. Not shore how you figured all this out shrimp-ly visiting their cathedral, or whatever it’s called, one tide.”

“Are you going to start wearing greasepaint Karkat,” Sollux sneers and cackles quietly. “Because I might start to think you’re being mind controlled by the clowns if that happens.”

“Oh yes,” you grimace and bare your teeth at Sollux, “Blood is paint and only jokes are taken seriously and what the fuck ever they believe in exactly. I think I’ll put a big ‘f’ and ’u’ on my face in clown makeup. Or maybe a middle finger, whichever is more obvious. Then I’ll guzzle shitty soda until I vomit and pass out. Sounds like an ideal time, let me tell you.”

Sollux snorts and rolls his gander bulbs, “Good to know. Hey Aradia, want to perform an exorcism on him to separate his pan from clown influence?”

Aradia laughs and says, “That’s not how exorcism works, but sure, why not? I’ve always wanted to try to exorcise someone or something! I’ve done a lot of other things for ghosts, but I haven’t had to exorcise anything yet!”

“Whoa, no thanks,” you hiss out. “Keep your creepy, your creepy everything honestly, the hell away from me Aradia. I’m not going to become some clown cultist you idiots. It’s just that a strange thing happens, it’s called I listen to make sure I’m not an utter unapologetic asshole.”

Sollux huffs and mutters, “What, if you’re going to be an asshole, then you want to do it entirely on purpose?”

“That is completely god damn right,” you say while glaring at him.

“Whale,” Feferi interrupts loudly, “back to the actual topic at prong, Grand _Pulpiteer_ is not here, basically because he’s not needed here.”

“He does more trouble than good,” Equius states.

You frown and say, “Is there a point to this conference, aside from attempting to criticize someone who isn’t here?”

“Yeah,” Tavros mutters, “I thought we were, going to talk about the Gamblignants?”

“Yes.” Feferi looks at Vriska as she asks, “Do you have any formal complaints you wish to file? The situation has been mast-ly resolved, but I’m willing to listen if you wish to bring up any grievances, perch-onal or otter-wise.”

Vriska sits up, placing her fronds back onto the floor as she says, “Huh? What do you mean, the situation’s been resolved? How can it possibly be solved before I even get here to represent the Gamblignants that were attacked?”

Feferi sneers at Vriska, saying smoothly, “That’s what happens when you stay on planet, doing illegal things. You miss out on opper-tuna-ties that occur in the vast majority of the Empire. Unless you forgot that it’s mostly pupa and grubs on planet?”

Feferi laughs and adds on, “It’s no wonder you gamblignants steal things so easily, I mean, what adult cod-n’t steal from an underage pupa?”

She pauses before smirking and saying, voice dripping with disdain, “It’s sad, reel-ly, that you all have to resort to such petty tactics.”

Vriska bristles at that, growling lowly, and well fuck. You would not have expected this, but hell, if any troll could deal with Vriska as a pitchmate it would be Feferi. Shit, Feferi might even be able to make Vriska a better troll through that rivalry, if it ends up budding into something romantic. Either way, it’s way fucking better than the pitch crush she seemed to have on Gamzee. It seems a little bit quick for her to move on, but what the fuck do you know. Maybe Eridan finally talked sense into her over that unhealthy bullshit she was doing to flirt with him. Maybe Vriska just genuinely irritated her that much by not being cooperative with information on trollian. Maybe the way she intermediated between Nepeta and Gamzee made her become interested in that kind of relationship with them.

Gamzee probably wouldn’t even notice the black flirting that just happened between them. Fuck, he didn’t seem to notice the ashen connotation of Feferi’s mediation between him and Nepeta, and he _apparently_ didn’t notice your frustrated pale pining that you thought was embarrassingly obvious. You guess it’s now your job to help him deal with all that quadrant shit though?

Fuck, you’re get a little flustered and embarrassed thinking about his pitifulness. You know part of the reason that your pan is doing this is because it’s still so new of a thing, this moirallegiance you two have started.

There are more important things to be doing right now, though, so you clear your squeal pipette and say, “Uh, so, where were we?”

Feferi smiles sweetly at you, and how quickly her face changes really unsettles you, but you push it off as she speaks, “If Vriska has no complaints to formally file, then we can move onto the other topic of fin-terest and conch-cern.”

“I do have something to bring up,” Vriska shouts standing and loudly slamming her prongs against the table. “Isn’t anyone wondering how the fuck these assholes even managed to do this undetected? I mean, how did they know where we were? How did they get to us all? How the hell did they get on _boats_ without any single Gamblignant noticing that they were purples? Am I seriously the only smart one here, come _on_!”

She extends the ‘on’ in her usual irritating fashion. She has a point though, you all have no idea how they managed to do any of those things. You debate asking Gamzee, but he might not really know or be able to tell you beyond ‘they have the skills to do it’. He already has plans to deal with the trolls who did this, so he could find out that way, assuming he doesn’t forget about what he said. Which you don’t think he will, but honestly, you’d rather he focused on trying to figure out what the hell that random attack was about first. That is more important in your book.

“Whale, Karkat,” Feferi prompts you after a moment of silence. “You’re our resident clown expert, it would sea-m. Any idea how those things happened?”

“None whatsoever,” you tell her. “My guess, weird unfathomable purple blood absurdity that defies all common sense.”

“So, we’re _all_ okay with knowing that those assholes could easily infiltrate us at any time with absolutely no warning,” Vriska asks. “For all we know, they’re still around, hiding out, or who fucking knows what else. Why am I the only one taking this as the serious threat it is?”

You wave her off saying, “They definitely aren’t hanging around anymore. All clowns go to celebrate initiation, so they retreated in a sense because of that. Then Grand Pulpiteer spoke to all of the purples at church, telling them to not attack anymore, and the faithful all listen to him, so we have nothing to worry about.”

Everyone stares at you for a minute and you tense up, hissing out, “What? I told you I knew that there was no danger. Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Aradia, I very seriously am getting worried about him being controlled or manipulated by clowns now, so how would we fix that,” Sollux hisses to Aradia.

“What the fuck,” you shout. “Why do you keep on saying that?”

“It sounds like you know a lot more about clowns then you used to,” Kanaya says calmly. “I believe overall, we are shocked and perhaps a bit wary about that.”

You groan and say, “Look, it’s easy to understand. I actually bother to pay attention and listen when trolls talk to me. That’s why I know certain things. It’s not my fault that you all shove your pretentious attitudes so far up your nooks that you can’t bother to pay attention to very basic concepts other trolls talk to you about.”

“Regardless of the truth of those statements, that doesn’t change the fact that they still could infiltrate us again,” Terezi says. Vriska sits with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I already told you, they won’t do that,” you respond with a frown.

“They won’t because Grand Pulpiteer said not to.” Terezi tilts her nugbone and asks, “So what happens if Grand Pulpiteer says otherwise? They listen to him, correct? So, what is keeping him from changing his orders?”

You growl a bit defensively, making a gesture with your arm and prong, saying, “Maybe the fact that he doesn’t want to fight the goddamn Imperial Army?”

“That is actually the other matter I wished to speak a-boat,” Feferi says quietly. “Is that reel-ly enough to put lasting trust into? What kelp-s him from changing his pan? What happens if some other troll becomes Grand water-ebb-er?

“What keeps him from changing his pan is the fact that he doesn’t want his family to die in a pointless war,” you hiss out, baring your teeth slightly and growling lowly. “That is never going to change, so yes, I’d say that’s a fucking well and good enough lasting goddamn reason to trust what he says. And most likely some other troll won’t become Grand until he’s dead, and when that happens you can gather up your fucking coattails, pretend to be less than a bigoted bitch, and get the next Grand to come to their own terms of fucking peace with the Empire. Potentially without insulting them or forcing them, like you did with him, because they might not be so willing to cooperate with the threat of force and I most likely won’t be around to help you smooth things over next time, because I’ll also probably be dead by then. Ultimately, I highly doubt it’ll be as much of a problem as you’re making it out to be. If your ancestor and his ancestor were able to interact and whatever else without warfare, then I think you’ll be just fine.”

After a moment of silence, Feferi slumps forward, propping her elbow against the table and rubbing at her temple with the fingers of that same prong as she spits out, “Fin Karkat. I sincerely hope that this time isn’t the time where you’ve made a misjudgment.”

“It’s not a misjudgment,” you firmly state.

There’s a moment of silence before Eridan reaches over and lightly touches Feferi’s arm, saying, “Okay, I think it’s best if we end this here. Everyone knows the situation, there’s no upcomin war any more, we’re going to trust the clowns, all that shit. Every-fin else can be glubbed a-boat over chat.”


	2. Chapter 2

After training the new threshecutioners for hours, you dismissed the threshecutioners to their quarters and are currently heading back to your own block. Usually all your hatefriends bother you non-stop, but tonight everyone’s been quiet, though considering that a lot of the times their jobs keep them from their quadrants, you really don’t have to guess why they’ve been out of your hair. Everyone happens to be in one place at the same time, at least for a little while, and they are spending time alone with quadrants.

You finally get to your block, walking inside and locking the door behind you. It is impossible to not notice the pile that you and Gamzee built, even if it is in the corner of the living block. It’s huge, made with the softest and plushest snuggle planes and pillows you could find in your block, with Gamzee’s weird soda bottles and some of your most often read romance novels stuffed into it to give it just the right balance of soft and firm. Just like the pale quadrant, a pile has to be a perfect balance between opposites for it to be functional.

You groan and hide your burning face in your prongs, any existing gods and hells, that was some straight-up unfiltered saccharine bullshit right there. You don’t know which bothers you more, the fact that you are naturally a cutesy and frilly romantic despite how you’re a fucking tough-as-nails military leader, or the fact that you can’t just accept that side of you and show it to the single quadrant you have. For shit’s sake, you could at least manage to not berate yourself for it in the confidence of your own pan!

_“There’s no need for you to be so harsh at yourself.”_

You know that, you really do, and it’s not like you haven’t been trying to stop being a self-depreciating shithole for sweeps and sweeps.But here you are, six-fucking-teen and still you still have nights where you beat yourself up over the past present and future. You sigh and groan, rubbing your prongs roughly against your face. The memory of Gamzee papping you gently makes you stop, your auricular shells burning. While he was flustered at first about it, you are really glad that he shoosh papped you first. While he might be the ‘unstable’ half and you might be the ‘calming’ half, that doesn’t mean you don’t need shoosh papped sometimes, and it’s nice to know that your moirail knows that.

Your phone alerts you of a message from within your sylladex and you riffle through until you find the card it’s on and access it. Your phone pops into existence and you grab it and look to see who’s bothering you.

terminallyCapricious [TC] started trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TC: HeY My bRo, yOu bEiNg tO BuSy

CG: NOT EXACTLY. THE ONLY THING I’M DOING IS GETTING READY TO MAKE ANOTHER FUTILE ATTEMPT AT GETTING A DECENT DAY’S SLEEP. WHAT ABOUT YOU?

TC: JuSt aLl aBoUt tHe sAmE I Be sUpPoSiNg

TC: BuT NoW I Be tO WoNdErInG If yOu aRe tOtAl sErIoUs oN Of hOw lItTlE SlEeP YoU Be gEtTiNg dAiLy

TC: I KnOw aS YoU ExAgGeRaTe tHiNgS On oCcAsIoN AnD JuSt wAs aSkInG AfTeR ThE KnOwLeGgE As iF I ShOuLd bE SeRiOuS CoNcErNeD AbOuT It

CG: WELL, IF I’M BEING HONEST, IT’S A LITTLE OF BOTH. I’M EXAGGERATING TO A CERTAIN EXTENT, BUT HAVING SLEEPLESS DAYS IS NOT UNCOMMON FOR ME. HOWEVER, THIS PAST WEEK IT’S BEEN EXACERBATED TO A FUCKING RIDICULOUS DEGREE. BETWEEN THE *ALREADY* STRESSFUL SITUATION OF A POTENTIAL WAR, FEFERI BOTHERING THE FUCK OUT OF ME TO HURRY, AND THE RANDOM ASSHOLES WHO ATTACKED US ON THAT ONE PLANET. LET’S JUST SAY THIS HAS NOT BEEN A GODDAMN FUN WEEK. HONESTLY NOW THAT THIS HAS RESOLVED, I THINK I’LL BE ABLE TO SLEEP BETTER, IF I’M LUCKY.

TC: I GeT YoU, bUt aLl dO KeEp mE In tHe kNoW Of iF YoUr sLeEp tRuE Be gEtTiNg bAd aGaIn

TC: AiN’T AlL ToTaL SuRe aS WhAt i cOuLd dO FoR YoU BuT

CG: TRUST ME, I’LL LET YOU KNOW, BUT FOR NOW DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT TOO MUCH.

TC: aIgHt :o)

CG: SO, HOW’S YOUR NIGHT BEEN?

CG: FUCK, WAIT, ISN’T IT A LONG TRIP? DID YOU EVEN MANAGE TO GET THERE EARLY ENOUGH TO GET ANYTHING DONE? SHIT, I’M BAD AT THIS.

TC: HaHa i aLl tHiNk yOu’rE BeInG To jUsT FiNe kArKaT

TC: i dId aLl rEtUrN In tImE As tO Do sOmE ThInGs, AlL OrGaNiZiNg fOr rEnOvAtIoNs aS NeEd tO Be dOnE AnD StArTiNg oN ClEaRiNg tHe lAnD Of aLl tHeM TrEeS FoR ExPaNsIoN SiNcE It’s bEeN GeTtInG MaJoR CrAmPeD In cHuRcH As oF LaTe

TC: AlSo aLl dIsCuSsInG WiTh tHe oLdEr cHuRcH MeMbErS On wHaT AlL CaRnIvAlS As oCcUr iN RaPiD SuCcEsSiOn aFtEr cOnScRiPtIoN AnD InItIaTiOn

CG: WAIT, THERE ARE MORE CARNIVALS?

TC: HeLl yEaH My bRoThEr :oD

TC: GuEsS I AiN’T ToLd yOu oF AlL WhAt cArNiVaLs aS ChUrCh hOsTs yEt, BuT If yOu wAnT To aLl hEaR On aBoUt tHeM I Be gLaD To sPeAk aBoUt tHeM

CG: UH, GO AHEAD THEN, SINCE YOU SEEM REALLY EXCITED ABOUT IT. I’LL BE LISTENING. READING. WHATEVER, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. JUST IGNORE ME AND GO ON A RANT ABOUT YOUR DAMNED CARNIVALS ALREADY BEFORE YOUR EAGERNESS MAKES YOU INJURE YOURSELF WITH HURRIED MOVEMENT OR SOMETHING ELSE EQUALLY STUPID.

TC: :oD :oD :oD :oD

TC: wElL AfTeR AlL DiScUsSiNg iT WiTh tHe oLdEr cHuRcH MeMbErS, sEeMs As lIkE A CaRnIvAl oF EnTiTlEmEnT Is aLl tO Be cOmInG Up sOoN

TC: tHaT’S AlL WhEn cLoWnS As aRe tEn sWeEpS GeT ThEiR TiTlEs aNd iT LaStS BoUt a nIgHt oR So

TC: WhIcH AlL ReMiNdS Me, ArE ThEm tHrEe hAtChMaTeS AdAmEl iUnOnD AnD GaXxIc tEn

TC: ‘cAuSe iF So tHeY GoTtA CoMe fOr tO GeT ThEiR TiTlEs

CG: YEAH, THEY ARE ALL ABOUT TEN. WHEN EXACTLY IS THIS PARTICULAR CARNIVAL?

TC: In a pErIgEe oR TwO, dEpEnDiNg

TC: We aLl gOt tO TrY To fIgUrE OuT HoW MaNy bRoThErS, sIsTeRs, AnD SiBlInGs wIlL Be gEtTiNg tHeIr tItLeS

TC: tHeN FiGuRe oUt wHaT AlL ThOsE TiTlEs wIlL EnD Up bEiNg

TC: ThErE AlSo bE A PoSsIbIlItY As iT MiGhT Be pOsTpOnEd iF AlL ThEy sTaRt cOcOoNiNg bEfOrE We cAn gEt aLl tHeM DeTaIlS DoWn

CG: OH SHIT, I NEARLY FORGOT ABOUT THE TEN-SWEEPERS COCOONING! FUCK! I’M GOING TO HAVE TO RE-ARRANGE SOME THINGS AND MAKE SURE ALL THE IMPERIAL ARMY’S COCOONING TROLLS ARE SAFE. THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME.

TC: Oh uH, nO PrObLeM

TC: BuT If tHeY AlL Do sTaRt cOcOoNiNg bEfOrE We cAn gEt tHeM TiTlEd, We’lL HaVe tO HoLd oFf tHe cArNiVaL Of eNtItLeMeNt fOr a cArNiVaL Of tRaNsFoRmAtIoN

TC: tHeM CaRnIvAlS ArE UnPrEdIcTaBlE As fUcK In pArTiCuLaR SeEiNg aS ThEy bE BaSeD On iNdIvIdUaL TrOlLs aNd wHeN AlL ThEiR BoDiEs tElL ThEm tO Be cHaNgInG, tHeY CaN EvEn lAsT NeAr a wHoLe sWeEp dEpEnDiNg oN HoW EaRlY Or lAtE SoMe fAiThFuL Be tO StArT AnD FiNiShInG CoCoOnInG

TC: AfTeR ThOsE TwO, tHeRe’s a cArNiVaL Of fEsTiViTy wHiCh bE JuSt pUrE CeLeBrAtIoN WiTh nO ReAl rEaSoN AsIdE FrOm aBiLiTy tO Be aLl jOyFuL AnD RaUcOuS

TC: sHoUlD OcCuR In aBoUt tWo pErIgEeS As wElL, aRoUnD WhAt cArNiVaL Of eNtItLeMeNt

CG: WOW, ALL THOSE CARNIVALS AND RENOVATIONS TO BOOT? SOUNDS LIKE YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE YOUR PRONGS FULL FOR A WHILE.

TC: Ha yEaH ThAt’s a rIgHt tRuE StAtEmEnT

TC: oH, i aLsO DoNe gEt tO PrEaCh aGaIn, WhIcH Is mOtHeRfUcKiN BiTcHtItS As hElL :oD

TC: aNd i aLl dEcIdEd tO Be tRaInInG WiTh tHe iNiTiAtEs aS To lEaRn lAuGhSaSsIn sKiLlS

CG: OH MY GOD GAMZEE, THAT IS SO MANY THINGS, WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO DO SO MUCH AT ONCE? JUST THE FUCKING PLANNING FOR RENOVATIONS AND CARNIVALS SEEMS LIKE GODDAMN PLENTY TO DO.

TC: hAhA MaYbE BuT It aIn’t lIkE I’M TaCkLiNg tHeM TwO MoThErFuCkErS By mYsElF

TC: i gOt aLl mY FaMiLy tO Be hElPiNg mE AnD We dId dOnE GeT A FaIr nUmBeR Of tReEs dOwN AlReAdY

TC: tIrInG As fUcK ThAt wAs bEiNg, MoThEr fUcK

CG: YOU ARE HONESTLY TELLING ME THAT YOU ARE PREACHING, PLANNING FOR RENOVATIONS, PREPARING FOR CARNIVALS, TRAINING, *AND* FUCKING PERSONALLY CHOPPING DOWN TREES. YET YOU ACT LIKE IT’S NOTHING ASIDE FROM A MINOR INCONVENIENCE? WHAT FUCKING NEXT, ARE YOU GOING TO TACK ON LEARNING DANCING AND/OR CONTORTING YOUR BODY IN THE CREEPIEST POSITIONS POSSIBLE, AND THEN SAY THAT IT’S ONLY AN AVERAGE AMOUNT OF EFFORT?

CG: BEFORE YOU REPLY, I’M BEING SARCASTIC AND ASKING RHETORICAL QUESTIONS, ALSO DON’T SERIOUSLY TAKE INTO CONSIDERATION ADDING MORE ONTO YOUR RIDICULOUS LOAD OF RESPONSIBILITIES AND TASKS.

TC: wElL, iT AiN’T AlL YoU Be dRaWiNg iT Up tO Be

TC: cArNiVaL PrEpArAtIoNs bE MoStLy jUsT TaLkInG AnD WaItInG FoR NoW, tRaInInG StIlL Be iN EaRlY StAgEs sO I AiN’T ReAlLy rEqUiReD To jOiN In yEt sEeInG As i aLrEaDy kNoW BaSiCs aNd sUcH, tHe pLaNs aS FoR ReNoVaTiOn aRe bAsIcAlLy sEt aNd aLl wE GoTtA Do wItH ThAt nOw iS ClEaR OuT ThE SpAcE We nEeD, aNd pReAcHiNg aIn’t nEvEr nO KiNd oF BuRdEn oN Me, It’s a tHiNg aS I LoOk fOrWaRd tO AnD EnJoY FuLlY

TC: sO I TrUlY AiN’T AlL ToO BuSy, BuT At tHe sAmE TiMe i’lL Be tIeD Up fOr a wHiLe yEt wItH DoInG ThInGs aS NeEd tO Be dOnE

TC: tHaT DoEs aLl rEmInD Me tHoUgH

TC: wHaT AlL YoU GoT To bE DoInG My bRoThEr

TC: SiNcE OuT ThE TwO Of uS YoU Be tHe mOsT LiKe tO BeAr tOo mUcH WeIgHtEd rEsPoNsIbIlItY OnTo yOuR BaCk lIkE ThE MoThErFuCkInG WoRkAhOlIc yOu bE :oP

CG: WELL, I’M BASICALLY GOING TO BE JUST TRAINING THE THRESHECUTIONERS FOR A WHILE.

TC: uH-HuH

TC: tHiS Is tHe sOuNd oF Me bEiNg tOtAlLy mOtHeR FuCkInG CoNvInCeD

CG: OKAY, I ADMIT I’M ALWAYS PRETTY BUSY KEEPING EVERYTHING RUNNING SMOOTHLY. BUT IT’S ALL BORING INCONSEQUENTIAL NONSENSE THAT MOSTLY INVOLVES COMMUNICATING WITH OTHER TROLLS. ISSUING ORDERS, RECEIVING REPORTS, COLLABORATING WITH THE GENERALS, ASSISTING FEFERI AND ERIDAN WITH DIPLOMATIC ENDEAVORS, THAT KIND OF THING. HONESTLY, I’M PRETTY SURE IF I WASN’T AROUND, MOST OF THESE ASSHOLES I RELUCTANTLY REFER TO AS MY HATEFRIENDS WOULD HAVE KILLED EACH OTHER, DESTROYED THE EMPIRE, OR CAUSED THE EXTINCTION OF OUR ENTIRE SPECIES.

CG: EACH OF THOSE EXAMPLES I HAVE *AT LEAST ONE* PERSONAL, REAL-LIFE, “HOLY SHIT WHY IS THIS MY LIFE” STORY ATTACHED TO IT. I WOULD FUCKING ADORE TO GO INTO DETAIL ON THE SEVERAL FAILINGS OF THESE TROLLS WHO SOMETIMES HAVE THE PANS OF GRUBS. I SWEAR TO FUCK GAMZEE, THEY ARE THE WORST. DO US BOTH A FAVOR, THOUGH, AND DON’T ASK ABOUT THE STORIES INVOLVED WITH THAT LAST EXAMPLE. JUST. DO NOT. I AM STILL PISSED ABOUT ALL OF THEM, AND I'M UTTERLY SURPRISED THAT CERTAIN TROLLS AREN’T DEAD. THAT’S REALLY ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THAT MATTER.

TC: My bRoThEr, YoU AlL TrYiNg tO Be tElLiNg aT Me tHaT AlL ThAt dOn’t bE A StReSs oR StRaIn aT YoU

TC: tO Be tRaInInG AnD AlL To mAnAgInG ThReShEr aCtIvItIeS On tOp oF AlL ThE OtHeR ArMy mOtHeRfUcKeRs aS WeLl

TC: GoT ThE WhOlE Of tHe iMpErIaL ArMy aNd tHeIr mOvEmEnTs uNdEr yOuR TuTeLaGe, ThAt bE WhAt lIkE FiVe oR SiX ToTaL GrOuPs oF ThOuSaNdS Of tRoLlS Of eVeRy sHaDe aNd hUe

TC: ThEn yOu aLl hElP WiTh pOlItIcS AnD KeEp aLl tHeM MoThErFuCkErS CoOpErAtInG As lIkE ThEy aIn’t kNoWiNg hOw tO Do wItHoUt sOmE KiNd oF BlUnDeR Of mAjOr dEgReE As yOu’vE AlL JuSt mAdE ApPaReNt aT Me

TC: PlUs i aIn’t nO DuMb tRoLl, I KnOw yOu bE A ThReShEr jUsT LiKe tHe rEsT, yOu mUsT Be gEtTiNg oUt aNd fIgHtInG On oCcAsIoN

TC: aNd aLl yOuR TaSkS AnD ObLiGaTiOnS AiN’T GoT No TeMpOrArInEsS As lIkE MiNe

TC: I Be bUsY FoR A WhIlE, aNd cArNiVaLs aLl dO OcCuR SwEeP ‘rOuNd, BuT SoOn eNoUgH My sChEdUlE WiLl lOoK MiGhTy mOtHeR FuCkInG EmPtY In cOmPaRiSoN To yOuRs

TC: So aLl tElL At mE HoW YoU AiN’T To oVeRwHeLmInG YoUrSeLf wItH AlL ThAt

CG: IT IS STRESSFUL AND OVERWHELMING SOMETIMES, OKAY! THERE, LOOK, I ADMITTED IT. ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED, ABILITY TO RECOGNIZE AND ADMIT THAT I HAVE PROBLEMS, OR SOMETHING. BUT HERE’S THE THING, IF I DON’T DO IT, NO ONE FUCKING ELSE **WILL**. SO WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? LET THE ENTIRE TROLL RACE SUFFER JUST BECAUSE I’M SO FULLY AND ENTIRELY FUCKING TIRED OF ALL THIS HOOFBEASTMANURE?

CG: I COULDN’T LET THAT HAPPEN, I CAN’T SIT BY AND LET THE WORLD BURN AROUND ME, THAT ISN’T WHO I AM. I MEAN FUCK, DO YOU THINK EVERYTHING WAS FLOWERS AND PLEASANTRIES WHEN FEFERI TOOK OVER? IT WAS FUCKING CHAOS. ESPECIALLY WITH FEFERI SO RADICALLY CHANGING OUR CORE SYSTEMS? IT WAS BASICALLY GODDAMN ANARCHY UP IN THIS BITCH. I WALKED INTO THE VOLATILE WORLD OF FEFERI CREATING A NEW EMPIRE WITH THE DESIRE TO *FIX* THE BEDLAM. AND LOOK AT US FUCKING NOW, THE BIGGEST ISSUES WE USUALLY HAVE IS DISAGREEMENTS AND ARGUMENTS.

TC: I AlL WoUlDn’t aSk aS FoR YoU To dRoP EvErYtHiNg aS YoU Do oR To cHaNgE NoNe oF YoUr tRaItS As mAkE YoU

TC: jUsT AlL PoInTiNg oUt tHaT YoU TyPiCaL Be mOrE StReSsEd aNd sTrAiNeD ThEn mE So yOu aIn’t gOt nO RoOm aS To tAlK AbOuT My bUsY ScHeDuLe :oP

CG: YES, HELLO, I’M HYPOCRITICAL, BUT SO ARE YOU, SO DEAL WITH IT.

TC: HaHaHaHa aS LoNg aS YoU KeEp aT YoUr oWn aDvIcE AnD NoT AlL CrUsH YoUrSeLf uNdEr tHe wEiGhT As yOu’rE CaRrYiNg

CG: UGH. YEAH, OKAY. FINE.

TC: AnD, uH, i aLl cOuLd uM

TC: i mEaN

TC: i’m hErE FoR YoU AnD Uh

TC: CaN’T ReAlLy dO YoUr jOb fOr yOu bUt

TC: CaN, uM, cAn rIgHt pRoPeR

TC: mOtHeRfUcK ThIs iS EaSiEr tO SaY ThEn tYpE

TC: cAn hElP YoU NoT StReSs oUt

TC: AnD StUfF

CG: OH MY GOD, I’M SORRY, I’M LAUGHING. SOUNDS LIKE AN ENJOYABLE OFFER AND I WILL ALMOST DEFINITELY TAKE YOU UP ON THAT AT SOME POINT, BUT WHEN YOU GET AWKWARD IT’S FUNNY AND ENDEARING AS FUCK.

TC: hAhAhAhAhAhA No nEeD To aPoLoGiZe, It bE AlL KiNdS Of dIfFiCuLt tO MaKe yOu lAuGh sO I’M AlL GlAd

TC: I FeEl aS We aLl mIgHt sHoUlD GeT To gOiNg tO SlEeP HeRe tHoUgH

CG: YEAH, YOU’RE PROBABLY RIGHT. WHILE I ENJOY TALKING TO YOU, I HAVE TO GET TO SLEEP SO THAT I’M READY TO GET BACK TO MAKING SURE ALL THESE IDIOTS DON’T GUT EACH OTHER, AND YOU SHOULD GET SOME SLEEP TOO. I WILL DO MY BEST TO NOT STRESS MYSELF OUT TOO MUCH, YOU DO THE SAME, ALRIGHT? AND I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I’M HERE FOR YOU TOO, ANYTIME YOU NEED ME. EVEN IF IT’S JUST TO SHOOT THE SHIT AND TALK ABOUT RANDOM NIGHTLY STUFF THAT GOES ON. GOOD LUCK DOING ALL THE THINGS YOU’RE DOING. AND, UH. PALE FOR YOU.

CG: <>

TC: sHiT My bRoThEr i’m pAlE FoR YoU ToO <> :oD

TC: bUt yEaH AlL ThOsE ThInGs sOuNd mIgHtY MoThErFuCkInG NiCe

TC: I’Ll aLl cErTaIn kEeP At cOnTaCt wItH YoU AnD Do mY LeVeL BeSt aT NoT BeCoMiNg tOo wOrE OuT

TC: sPeAk aT YoU ToMoRrOw kArKaT

CG: GOOD MORNING GAMZEE

TC: mOrNiN :o)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to post this much earlier but then a storm knocked out my wi-fi ;v;  
> either way i hope you enjoy!~


	3. Chapter 3

The next night you are kept stupidly fucking busy with training, and while Gamzee did manage to hit you up that day, you were already halfway in your recuperacoon and he was nearly dead asleep after chopping down trees. So, it was a very short conversation that mostly consisted of you two talking about how tired you were, and saying good morning. You try not to let it bother you, try not to think that this is just the start of a reoccurring pattern, but you’ve never been the best at hopeful or optimistic thinking. The best you can say for right now, is that there is no precedent of you two being unable to make time to talk to each other, and it’s not like you went the whole night without talking to him. Which means it probably isn’t as bad as your pan is trying to make it seem.

As much as Sollux thinks your tactical reasoning is a pain in the nook, you find it useful when you need to stop yourself from getting too terribly stuck in fruitless pessimistic thoughts. Maybe it doesn’t work all the time, and maybe the thoughts eventually come back up sometimes, but whatever. The little things count.

Either way, it’s the next night and right now you’re sitting in a seat on the opposite side of a table from Feferi, elbow on the table with your prong holding up your face as you scroll through a message board between all your flaysquads on your phone. Nepeta and Tavros are screaming at each other, Equius sitting in the middle of them and sweating heavily, Aradia’s hair floating in the air while small sparks of psionics run up the curls of her horns. Sollux is also sending off small sparks, some of the sparks arching off and interfacing with Aradia’s horns, hair, or psionics. Kanaya sits with her lips pursed, a finger tapping against the table, Terezi scowling with her arms crossed over her chest. Feferi is sitting with her elbows on the table, her fingers touching, and her gander bulbs closed. Eridan and Vriska are both being very still and quiet for once.

At this point you don’t even remember why you are having this meeting, but you sure the fuck aren’t listening anymore. A chat handle that you are becoming increasingly familiar with flashes, and when you click on it quickly, it’s only partly to keep yourself busy.

terminallyCapricious [TC] started trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TC: HeY KaRkAt i aLl gOt sOmE RiGhTeOuSlY GoOd nEwS As tO ToSs yOuR WaY

CG: IS THAT SO? I COULD USE JUST ABOUT ANY DISTRACTION I CAN GET RIGHT NOW, SO GO AHEAD AND TELL ME WHATEVER IT IS.

TC: wHaT AlL Is gOiNg oN WiTh yOu aS YoU NeEd aT A DiStRaCtIoN :o?

CG: WE ARE HAVING A CONFERENCE, OR WERE HAVING A CONFERENCE, UNTIL NEPETA AND TAVROS STARTED TO GET MORE PERSONAL. SO NOW IT’S MORE OF “A KISMESISSITUDE IS ARGUING IN FRONT OF EVERY POSSIBLE QUADRANT, QUADRANT CORNER, AND HATEFRIEND THAT THEY HAVE”. SO THEREFORE, ABOUT HALF THE BLOCK IS READY TO FIGHT WHILE THE OTHER HALF IS MORE OR LESS HATING LIFE. WELL, I’M HATING BEING HERE DURING THIS, AT LEAST. I CAN’T EXACTLY SPEAK FOR THE OTHERS, TO BE HONEST.

CG: FROM WHAT I CAN TELL ARADIA’S PISSED, PROBABLY BECAUSE NEPETA IS HER MATESPRIT. SOLLUX SEEMS READY TO EITHER CALM ARADIA OR SIDE WITH HER IN A FIGHT. FEFERI IS DOING THAT “I’M TRYING SO HARD NOT TO BE MAD RIGHT NOW” THING. KANAYA LOOKS JUST ABOUT FED UP, AND I’M NOT SURE IF SHE WOULD TRY TO TALK SENSE INTO HER MOIRAIL OR IF SHE’D SIDE WITH HIM AGAINST NEPETA, NOT EVEN MENTIONING THAT ARADIA IS HER KISMESIS, SO IF ARADIA DOES ANYTHING THAT MIGHT JUST MAKE KANAYA GO OFF EITHER WAY. TEREZI IS FROWNING, WHICH I KNOW DOESN’T SOUND THAT BAD, BUT IF YOU KNEW HER IT’D BE A TELL-TALE SIGN OF HER ABOUT TO METTE OUT “JUSTICE” ON WHATEVER MORALS SHE HAS TONIGHT. WHICH, SHE’S FLUSH WITH KANAYA AND ASHEN BETWEEN ARADIA AND EQUIUS, SO WHO KNOWS WHICH SIDE SHE’D BE ON. MEANWHILE VRISKA AND ERIDAN LOOK LIKE THEY ARE WORRIED THAT THEIR RESPECTIVE MOIRAILS, TEREZI AND FEFERI FOR CLARIFICATION, OR THEIR SHARED MIDDLE LEAF, KANAYA, ARE GOING TO START KILLING TO STOP THE ARGUMENT. EQUIUS IS SITTING BETWEEN THE TWO WHILE THEY ARGUE, AND HE IS MOST LIKELY NOT HAVING A FUN TIME. THERE’S SWEAT EVERYWHERE AND IT SMELLS LIKE A GYM FOR HOOFBEASTS IN HERE. IF THAT CAN EVEN BE A THING. THE ONLY WAY IT COULD GET WORSE IS IF ERIDAN AND VRISKA WERE LESS QUIET, SINCE VRISKA AND EQUIUS ARE ***SOMEHOW***, UNBELIEVABLY FLUSH FOR EACH OTHER, AND ERIDAN IS PITCH WITH TEREZI.

CG: SO YEAH. I REALLY DON’T WANT TO BE HERE BUT LIKE FUCK I’LL BE THE FIRST TO LEAVE IF I CAN HELP IT. SO PLEASE, DO DISTRACT ME FROM THIS TERRIBLE EXCUSE OF A CONFERENCE. THOUGH IF THERE’S SOME BAD NEWS THAT YOU WANT TO TAG ALONG WITH THIS YOU SHOULD SAY IT FIRST BECAUSE SAVING BAD NEWS FOR LAST IS THE WORST IDEA EVER CONCEIVED.

TC: oKaY BuT Uh i aIn’t sAiD NoThInG AbOuT No bAd nEwS

CG: YEAH BUT THAT’S USUALLY HOW THESE THINGS GO? OR MAYBE IT’S JUST THE ASSHOLES I DEAL WITH, THE FUCK DO I KNOW ABOUT YOUR WEIRD CLOWN MANNERISMS. BUT YEAH, USUALLY TROLLS WILL BE ALL “OH WOW, I HAVE THIS GREAT AND WONDERFUL THING TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD ABOUT YOURSELF”, THEN “BY THE WAY, HERE’S THIS TERRIBLE FUCKING THING THAT WILL MAKE YOU WONDER IF LIFE IS WORTH LIVING”.

TC: ShIt mY BrO SoUnDs aLl lIkE a pReTtY ShItTy tHiNg aS To dO

TC: i dOn’t tHiNk aS ThErE Be aNy bAd pArTs oN AbOuT ThIs

TC: I MeAn tHe rEaSoN GoT Me aLl sIgHiNg dIsPlEaSeD BuT I CaN’T ChAnGe tHe pAsT NoR CaN I ChAnGe nO OnE’S OpInIoN So tHeRe aIn’t nOtHiNg aS To bE DoInG AbOuT It

CG: OKAY, I GUESS? YOU SAY YOU DON’T THINK THERE’S GOING TO BE ANYTHING ALL THAT BAD, AND THAT’S NICE TO KNOW, BUT A LITTLE EXPOSITION ABOUT WHAT THE FUCK IT IS YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT WOULD BE NICE NOW THAT WE’VE GOTTEN THAT FIGURED OUT.

TC: ThE FaMiLy aS CoNdUcTeD ThE TeRrOrIzInG Of wHaT ImPeRiAl aRmY DoNe aLl cAmE FoRwArD In cOnFeSsIoN AnD RePeNtAnCe

TC: WhIcH MeAnS ThAt tHiS ShIt iS AlL FuLl aNd eNtIrElY DoNe bEiNg dEaLt wItH :oD

CG: THAT IS ACTUALLY SOME PRETTY GOOD NEWS, FOR ALL I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT “CONFESSION AND REPENTANCE” MEANS OR ENTAILS. SHOULD I TELL FEFERI THAT YOU DEALT WITH THE ONES WHO CAUSED THE ISSUE, OR SHOULD I JUST NOT BOTHER? EITHER WAY, THANKS FOR LETTING ME KNOW, I GENUINELY APPRECIATE THE UPDATE.

TC: aIn’t nO PrObLeM :o)

TC: bUt uH I GuEsS If yOu wAnT To yOu cAn tElL FeFeRi, DoN’T BoThEr mE OnE WaY Or tHe oThEr

TC: AnD If yOu bE cUrIoUs oN It, I MiGhT Be aBlE To tElL YoU On wHaT CoNfEsSiOn aNd rEpEnTaNcE AlL MeAnS

CG: NO, I’M GOOD. IT MEANS WHATEVER IT MEANS, AND IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME. I PROBABLY WILL TELL FEFERI THAT YOU DEALT WITH THEM. THOUGH I’M A LITTLE CURIOUS WHAT THE FUCK THEIR REASON WAS? YOU DON’T HAVE TO TELL ME, I’M JUST CONFUSED WHY YOU MENTIONED IT, MORE THEN ANYTHING.

TC: uH WeLl

TC: ThEy sAiD ThEy wAnTeD To sHoW As tHeY DiSlIkEd aT ThE FaCt tHaT ThE LeAdEr oF ThE ImPeRiAl aRmY WaS BeInG A MuTaNt

TC: SoRrY :o(

CG: AM I SUPPOSED TO BE GODDAMN SURPRISED BY THAT REVELATION? PARDON ME IF I SIT HERE NONCHALANTLY NOT GIVING A SHIT AS YOU ALSO TELL ME THAT THE CONDESCE WAS A HEARTLESS FUCKING BITCH WHO DIDN’T DIE NEARLY PAINFULLY ENOUGH. THE POINT BEING THAT NEITHER OF THOSE THINGS ARE NEW TO ME. SO SOME FUCKING CLOWNS DECIDED THAT THEY DISLIKED MY BLOOD COLOR? WOW, IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE HAD THRESHECUTIONERS QUIT, OR WORSE TRY TO KILL ME, FOR THE SAME REASON. EVERY TROLL, ME AND YOU INCLUDED, GOT TAUGHT THAT MUTANTS GET KILLED BEFORE THEY LEFT THE CAVERNS, THAT THEY WERE MISTAKES. FUCKING WORTHLESS CULLBAIT. SO, THE FACT THAT TROLLS STILL BELIEVE THAT EVEN WITH FEFERI CHANGING THE RULES SIX SWEEPS AGO? THIS IS SERIOUSLY OLD NEWS GAMZEE. IT SHOULDN’T SURPRISE YOU EITHER.

After a minute where Gamzee doesn’t respond, you glance up to see Feferi has started to visibly take deep breaths. She’s getting extremely pissed, and while you might be able to yell over the two quarrelling idiots, you don’t want to hurt your squeal pipette right now.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] started trolling cuttlefishCuller [CC]

CG: GRAND PULPITEER JUST INFORMED ME THAT THE PURPLES WHO ATTACKED WERE DEALT WITH.

You see Feferi blink and remove her shell-shaped phone from her sylladex to look at it. You can see a grin on her face as she types.

CC: R-E-ELLY?! 38D

CC: Wait, w)(at exactly did )(e do to t)(em?

CG: I’M NOT ENTIRELY SURE, THOUGH BY YOUR QUESTION, YOU SEEM TO THINK HE WOULD KILL THEM OR SOMETHING. TO THAT, I ASK WHAT THE FUCK, HAVE YOU PAID ATTENTION TO A SINGLE THING THAT HAS HAPPENED FOR THE LAST NINE OR SO NIGHTS?

CC: W)(ale… ocray, yea)(, moby )(e wouldn’t go t)(at far…

CC: But do you t)(ink he punfis)(ed t)(em oar )(urt t)(em?

CG: BETTER QUESTION, DO YOU REALLY CARE? IF THAT WAS WHAT HE DID, I’M SURE IT WAS LIKE, A RELIGIOUS REQUIREMENT OR SOMETHING. PLUS, PURPLES ARE PRETTY DAMNED TOUGH, SO I HARDLY DOUBT A LITTLE PUNISHMENT COULD REALLY PERMANENTLY INJURE THEM.

CC: Walleye guess you’re rig)(t aboat t)(at too 38/

CC: Glub, I guess I s)(ould be )(appy it’s delta wit)( finally.

CC: Now skiff only I cod net t)(ese dumb basses to CLAM UP FOR T)(R--E--E S-----ECONDS!!

CG: GOOD LUCK WITH THAT.

You close out of the chat with Feferi and see that Gamzee finally responded to you while you were busy with her.

TC: yOu aIn’t mOtHeR FuCkInG WoRtHlEsS CuLlBaIt kArKaT

CG: LOOK, THE IMPORTANT THING TO ME IS THAT THIS BULLSHIT WEEK OR TWO OR WHATEVER OF TRYING TO PREVENT A WAR IS FINALLY FUCKING OVER. I JUST TOLD FEFERI AND SHE WAS ACTUALLY VERY GODDAMN HAPPY TO HEAR THIS! SO YEAH, I THINK SHE MIGHT FINALLY STOP BEING SUCH A PLAGUE ABOUT THIS AND LEAVE US ALONE. PLUS, LIKE YOU SAID, YOU CAN’T CHANGE ANYONE’S OPINIONS AND YOU CAN’T CHANGE WHAT ALREADY HAPPENED. NOT TO MENTION THAT NEITHER OF US WOULD EVEN WANT TO FORCE ANOTHER TROLL TO CHANGE THEIR OPINIONS! SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU EVEN APOLOGIZE TO ME FOR SOMETHING YOU HAD NO CONTROL OVER? TROLLS ARE GOING TO THINK WHAT THEY THINK, BUT WHO CARES BECAUSE WE FIXED THE PROBLEM AND THAT IS ALL THAT MATTERS.

TC: yOu mAtTeR ToO :o(

CG: GOD FUCKING DAMN IT GAMZEE I WAS JUST MAKING A POINT. CAN WE JUST AGREE THAT THIS IS SOME NEWS WORTH CELEBRATING OVER?

TC: …sUrE

TC: hOw yOu wAnT FoR To cElEbRaTe

CG: AS I TALK TO YOU, TWO STUBBORN IDIOTS LOUDLY FLIRT/ARGUE WHEN WE PROBABLY HAVE SOMETHING ACTUALLY IMPORTANT TO BE DOING, AND I WEEP SILENTLY IN BOREDOM AND FRUSTRATION.

TC: I CoUlD WiPe tHaT DiSmAy fLuId fRoM YoUr fAcE FoR YoU ;o)

CG: IT WAS A GODDAMN JOKE, I AM NOT ACTUALLY CRYING. I’M FAIRLY CERTAIN YOU KNEW THAT ALREADY BUT, AS I AM BEGINNING TO DISCOVER, YOU JUST CAN’T FUCKING RESIST ANY AND ALL CHANCES TO BE A NEARLY SHAMELESS PALE FLIRT.

TC: oFfEr sTiLl sTaNdS My bRoThEr

TC: PlUs dIdN’T YoU AlL SaY As yOu nEeDeD At aNy kInD Of dIsTrAcTiOn aS WaS AlL SeNt yOuR WaY ;o) ;o) ;o)

CG: … YOU MAKE A GOOD FUCKING POINT. BUT I THINK I WILL DECLINE ON THE GROUNDS THAT YOU JUST LEFT *A FEW NIGHTS AGO* AND YOU NEED TO GET IMPORTANT THINGS DONE, SO I SHOULDN’T STOP YOU FROM DOING THAT JUST BECAUSE THIS POINTLESS CONFERENCE IS DRIVING ME DOWN A SLIPPERY SLOPE TOWARDS INDIFFERENT INSANITY. ALSO, BECAUSE IF YOU’RE HERE BEING YOUR PITIFUL SELF, I’M SURE I WON’T GET MUCH OF ANYTHING PRODUCTIVE DONE. FUCKING HELL, WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED THAT OUT OF ALL VAST POSSIBILITIES IN THE UNIVERSE, YOU WOULD END UP BEING THE FUCKER WHO DOES ALL THAT ROMANTIC BULLSHIT FROM BOOKS AND MOVIES THAT SIX-SWEEP ME WOULD FUCKING HOPELESSLY DREAM ABOUT. I NEVER ONCE CONSIDERED THAT IT WAS A POSSIBILITY FOR THESE MAUDLIN AS HELL GESTURES TO ACTUALLY HAPPEN IN MY REAL LIFE, BUT I SURE THE HELL AM NOT COMPLAINING.

TC: AwW I JuSt bE HoNeSt gLaD At tHaT I Be aBlE To mAkE YoU HaPpY

TC: yOu mAkE Me aLl fEeL TrUlY WeLl pItIeD By yOuR WoRdS AnD AcTiOnS As wElL KaRkAt, DoN’T YoU Be fOrGeTtInG On tHaT

CG: WHAT SHIT DO I DO THAT’S IN ANY WAY ROMANTIC? I SHOUT AND CUSS AT YOU MORE OFTEN THEN NOT? IS THAT HOW FUCKING PALE ROMANCE WORKS NOW? THE ANSWER IS NO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD IT WORK THAT WAY? MORE IMPORTANTLY, WHY THE HELL DO YOU THINK IT *SHOULD* WORK THAT WAY? I’M SUPPOSED TO BE GENTLE AND SHIT TOWARDS YOU.

TC: hAhA ChIlL OuT A LiTtLe, No nEeD To gEt aLl wOrKeD Up aNd cLaW At yOuRsElF OvEr tHiS ShIt

TC: I AlL JuSt dO Be tO KnOw aS ThAt iS JuSt aLl hOw yOu gEt sHoWiNg yOuR CaRe

CG: YEAH, WELL. WHATEVER. YOU’RE HAPPY SO I GUESS THAT’S WHAT COUNTS? HAVE I MENTIONED THAT YOU’RE FUCKING WEIRD AS HELL YET?

TC: HaHaHa a fEw tImEs

TC: BuT AlL DoN’T WoRrY AlL ToO MuCh oN Of aBoUt sToPpInG Me fRoM DoInG WhAt aLl nEeDs tO Be dOnE, iT WiLl cErTaIn bE To gEt dOnE

TC: aIn’t lIkE ThErE’S No sTrIcT TiMeLiNe aS Is iN PlAcE Or aNy sHiT SuCh aS SeEmS LiKe sUcH

TC: aNd iT AiN’T LiKe mY FaMiLy bE AlL UnAbLe tO GeT ShIt dOnE WiThOuT Me aLl bEiNg aRoUnD To kEeP ThEm cOoPeRaTiVe lIkE AlL ThEm gEnErAl mOtHeRfUcKeRs aNd fEfErI

TC: sO If yOu wAnT Me tHeRe mY BrOtHeR, I Do bElIeVe aS I CoUlD PrOvIdE :oD

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT? DO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT THEN. IT’LL TAKE A WHILE FOR YOU TO GET HERE EITHER WAY, AND I MIGHT ACTUALLY BE DONE FOR THE NIGHT BY THEN, WHO FUCKING KNOWS.

TC: wHiCh mEaNs aS We cOuLd gEt pRiVaTe tImE AlOnE

CG: WELL, IF YOU DO COME, I’LL BE SURE TO MAKE TIME FOR YOU EITHER WAY. BUT YEAH, ESSENTIALLY. FOR NOW, I’M GOING TO SEE IF I CAN GET THIS CONFERENCE BACK ON TRACK, HOPEFULLY WITHOUT SEEMING LIKE I’M ATTEMPTING TO MEDIATE BECAUSE. YEAH. NO. NOT INTERESTED. WHATEVER YOU DECIDE TO DO, MESSAGE ME LATER, ALRIGHT?

TC: hAhAhA I CeRtAiN WiLl kArKaT

TC: pEaCe bE, aNd sPeAk aT WiTh yOu lAtEr :o)

You try not to smile at the thought of being able to see Gamzee again, even though it hasn’t been that long since you last saw him. As much as this nervously happy feeling is nice, you have shit to do, and you want at least _most_ of it done before you drop it all to spend time with your new moirail. And that shit is certainly not getting done while Nepeta and Tavros continue to argue about nothing.

You put your phone back into your sylladex and focus back on the idiots in front of you. Not much has changed since last time, everyone still tense and annoyed. Well, time to yell you guess.

“Hey idiots,” you snap out, “shut the fuck up!”

Both Tavros and Nepeta stop shouting to turn and look at you, Feferi looking at you like you just saved her, and everyone else still tense as they look between you and the previously quarrelling kismesissitude.

“Can we actually get to the fucking topic at any point? Seriously, I do not even remember why we are having this meeting, but I know the reason we’re here has fucking nothing to do with you two or your petty stupid fucking arguments,” you spit out. “Or if we can’t remember the actual purpose of this meeting, how about we call it fucking quits and then you two can argue with each other in private to your fucking spade’s content.”

Nepeta snarls and shouts at you, “What we’re ar-goring-ing about _is_ the fur-cking hiss-ue we kneed to discuss meow seriously! Fur hell’s sake, mew are all trusting the murderous asshole who nearly killed Equius and I six sweeps ago!”

Vriska suddenly stands, shouting, “I never agreed to trusting anyone! You all were the ones who –”

“If you haddock been here,” Feferi speaks over Vriska, voice low and angry, “you would have had a plankton of chances to parti-sea-pate. And Nepeta, I al-ray-dy told you that I have made my de-sea-sion. It will not change.”

Terezi huffs, muttering, “This is why you don’t pursue legal or political action until all wronged parties are present, that is like the most _basic_ fucking thing –”

“Oh, come on Terezi,” you shout, “We both fucking know that shit doesn’t hold out when there’s a war about to break out! Preventing war is more fucking important then all that insipid gibberish. This wasn’t something that could wait for all the various layered frivolities that are granted to the legislacerators and their trials.”

“Then perhaps it may have been prudent to wait to authorize us to arrive, specifically in expectation of potential bloodshed,” Equius says evenly.

Fucking _what_? Excuse you, what the _fuck_ did he just say?

“I did not call any of you fucks to come here,” you yell out, angry of being accused of potentially sabotaging the peace you have been struggling towards for a whole god-forsaken week. A week of restlessness and tension and clown hoofbeastmanure. Like you would go through all that shit, waste your fucking time like that, get a peace established just to call them, prepared for attack. “I literally could have happily never seen most of your faces for the rest of my fucking life, and quite frankly you all can go fucking fuck yourselves and get the fuck out of my goddamn face!”

“Whale,” Feferi says quietly. “I, might have told them to come, just in case?”

“ _You fucking what_ ,” you screech at her. You’re so pissed you can’t even think, screaming whatever comes out of your talk blaster first, “What the rot-infected _hell_ were you goddamn thinking?”

“Hey, back off KK,” Sollux hisses out. “She did what she thought was best, not like she had a choice with you fucking off to play pretend clown.”

You _refuse_ to listen to that bullshit, she nearly fucking undermined the brittle fucking peace you had been fighting for, she was doing it during that whole week of stressing shit and now she did it _again_. And for fucking what?

“You are supposed to let me do my damned job, not fucking destroy my plans from underneath my fucking strut pods you fish fuck,” you scream at Feferi, making her wince.

“It’s not about you,” Feferi says quickly, “I just know Clam-zee, and he’s pretty unpredictable! I wanted to be safe Crab-catch!”

You grit your teeth, baring your fangs and ready to flip this fucking table, when ice-cold static pricks on the back of your neck. Everyone goes still as Aradia starts hovering in the air, her hair floating around menacingly and her gander bulbs appearing blank white. She looks like a fucking ghost, and your skin tingles with the electricity in the air as she slowly points to the door and speaks, voice a hollow eerie echo, “Leave.”

Nepeta is the first to bolt out of the room, dragging Equius with her. The rest of you jolt out of your frozen fear as Nepeta slams the door open in her escape, and you run out of the room quickly as everyone else seems to follow behind in a panic.

The door slams behind you all without any of you touching it, and Feferi squeaks out, “Let’s continue this later.”

“Fucking agreed,” you mutter, trying to catch your breath as you notice Sollux isn’t out here. Well, Aradia’s his moirail so what the fuck ever, he’s on his fucking own.


	4. Chapter 4

For the rest of the night, you keep yourself constantly busy, assigning practice to the threshecutioners who typically stay in the training compound to keep their skills sharp, instructing the newbies through more basic unweaponized combat scenarios, and keeping up-to-date on the message board of all the currently ongoing military activities. You’re now finally reading the filed paper reports of the entire Imperial Army, which are the fucking bane of your existence and solid goddamn proof that you are scraping the bottom of the barrel in an attempt to avoid even accidently bumping into Aradia. That woman is fucking _terrifying_ when she does shit like that. She starts talking about timelines and deaths and inevitability, and it just. Really fucks you up, personally speaking.

Any who, Bergis is here writing out a formal report on what occurred with the clowns while on his husktop, and the both of you are quietly sitting in one of the shared living blocks. You let the heavy stack of papers that you’re holding thump down onto the table in front of you, leaning back and kneading your fingertips into your temples.

“It’s times like these that I envy your psionics, Bergis,” you grumble.

He laughs and says, “Why? Do you want to use the sparks to burn all these papers?”

You scowl, growling lowly, “No, you smart ass. The automatic writing thing that you’re doing right now.”

The pencil that was writing with a faint rust glow around it twitches and he says, “Wait, fuck, I think I might have just accidently written what we were speaking.”

The pencil drops as Bergis puts down his husktop and leans to pick up the papers. You know writing wouldn’t exactly help you do what you’re doing, but you just want an excuse to not read these for a minute or two, to be completely honest.

After a second of looking, he says, “Yep, now the report I was just writing has a random out of context conversation. Interestingly enough, it seems like I did it in our respective quirks.”

You hum quietly, staring at the stack of papers in front of you for a minute before saying, “Remind me why we put all this malarkey on paper like we’re some lost-gone relics of an era before technology.”

“Makes it more official, I guess,” Bergis responds with a shrug. “Wasn’t my idea, Martinet.”

You sigh and mutter, “One of these days I’m going to find a way to go back in the past, just so I can tell my younger self how much of an idiot he is.”

Bergis scoffs and says, “Yeah, okay. I don’t know about you, but if I could go back in the past, I’d do something important. Not lecture myself. Now if you don’t mind, unless you want the report of what happened with the purples to consist of our literal conversations, silence would be preferable. If you can manage to be quiet, that is.”

“Oh, go suck on your own horns,” you spit out.

Bergis laughs and mutters, “Theoretically speaking, I could potentially do that if I tried. Unlike some other trolls I know.”

“You know Bergis, if I got paid for every time some jackass made a comment about my horns, I’d be one rich bastard,” you say.

You look back to your papers and sigh, not wanting to continue reading this tedious nonsense.

“The longer you put it off, the more it’ll heap up,” Bergis says.

You nearly tell him to go fuck off and talk to his moirail, but then you remember that Shrila is at the church and. Well, Gamzee said that they won’t keep Shrila from talking to Bergis, but it’s probably still weird. The two of them have been close for sweeps, both because of their relationship and because they were in the same flaysquad. You don’t imagine they lived close when they were young, but it must still be. Difficult.

Now that you think about it, what is he using his husktop for?

You decide not to say anything about Shrila and instead silently burry yourself in paper work once again. It takes hours before Bergis finishes his own report, and you weren’t even halfway finished with the other reports you had. You got him to give you the report despite his reluctance to give you more work, then he went off to his block or something. You were hardly paying attention, between the fatigue creeping in and the endless monotony of reading all the official reports.

At one point, you had to stop to re-read one of the reports in detail, because it was fucking odd. It’s one of the planets your threshecutioners are on, a planet on the official register of the planets that the Condesce had conquered and started a colony on, but there’s no sign of life. Not that you haven’t all seen your fair share of planets the Condesce had built up just to destroy for no reason. The difference this time was that threshecutioners cited that while there was no sighted life, the psionics in their squad reported feeling something _odd_ , something they couldn’t quite place or explain. Nothing serious or life-threatening, nothing that would cause them to think they should call for immediate back up, but still. It’s odd and has you feeling cautious.

You set it off to the side and continue to go through the other reports, and after going through them all and finding not much else that really concerned you, you finally grab all the reports to give them to Feferi really quick. Feferi usually doesn’t bother to keep in constant contact with the Imperial Army like you do, leaving you to handle that by yourself, but she still always wants to know about what is going on. Which is why you thought paper reports seemed reasonable and official when you were ten. Oh, how fucking wrong you were.

As you walk out of the block, you are already on your phone to both to issue commands and to tell Feferi what commands you are giving and why. You notice that you missed messages from Gamzee and swear, having forgot about what you said to him earlier. After you give your orders and send your messages to Feferi, you look at what he was saying.

terminallyCapricious [TC] started trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TC: SuP My bRoThEr :o)

TC: I AlL HaVe tO FiNaLlY FiNiShEd aLl aS I NeEdEd tO Be dOiNg aT FoR ThE NiGhT

TC: So hErE I Be

TC: AnD I HaVe aLl tHoUgHt oNtO WhAt yOu sAiD

carcinoGeneticist [CG] is idle! 

TC: aAaAhH

TC: mOtHeR FuCk tHaT SuRpRiSeD Me

TC: BuT Uh, ‘bOuT ThE FiNiShInG Of wHaT BuSiNeSs bEtWeEn tHe eMpIrE AnD My fAmIlY As wE BoTh hAd a sHaReD CoNcErN On aNd tHe iNvItE As yOu oFfErEd aT Me wHiCh sOuNdEd mOsT MoThErFuCkInG BiTcHtItS WiCkEd

TC: I AlL DeCiDeD As tO CoMe aNd bE CeLeBrAtInG WiTh yOu ;oD

carcinoGeneticist [CG] is idle! 

TC: Uh, YoU ThErE KaRkAt :o?

TC: ThAt iS AlL StIlL BeInG OkAy wItH YoU, rIgHt

TC: LiKe uH

TC: yOu sAiD As yOu dIdN’T CaRe iF I CaMe sO I’Ve aLrEaDy gOtTeN OnTo mY WaY ToWaRdS YoU

carcinoGeneticist [CG] is idle! 

TC: FUCK

TC: tHaT Is rEaLlY StArTlInG :o(

TC: bUt iF YoU DoNe cHaNgEd yOuR PaN I CaN HeAd bAcK To cHuRcH OnCe i lAnD

TC: iT’S AlL Up tO YoU My bRoThEr

carcinoGeneticist [CG] is idle! 

TC: ………

TC: MeSsAgE Me wHeN YoU ReAd tHiS, aIgHt

terminallyCapricious [TC] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

Fuck this was almost six hours ago, god fucking damnit, you are the fucking _worst_. You need to find some way for this thing to be easier to hear when it’s inside your sylladex, this bullshit is absolutely fucking ridiculous.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] started trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]

CG: I’M SO FUCKING SORRY GAMZEE. I GOT SWAMPED WITH A GIANT STACK OF PAPERWORK AND DIDN’T HEAR YOU MESSAGING ME. I HOPE YOU CAN FORGIVE ME. I AM THE ABSOLUTE WORST BULGE LICKING SHAME GLOBE FONDLER FOR ANSWERING YOU THIS LATE. RUMBLE SPHERE JUGGLING SHITFUCK, I’M SORRY.

You start typing out more, which is basically a long tirade that is centered around you profusely apologizing, but before you can finish it you bump directly into something.

“Fuck,” you hiss out while stumbling back, rubbing at your forehead while wincing.

A cheerful, “Karkat,” makes you look up to see Gamzee grinning at you.

You blink and drop your prong, saying, “Well fuck. Hey there. I was just getting around to responding to you. I’m really sorry it took me so long.”

Gamzee laughs, and you would swear you can hear a faint purr as he speaks, “Ain’t no thing my brother. I was all just to reading what all you just sent. Which be to why I got all to bumping into you. All sorry for that, by the way.”

You wave your free prong and say, “I wasn’t looking or paying attention either, so it’s just as much my fault. You don’t need to be sorry. Did you just get here then?”

Gamzee yawns and nods, mumbling, “So tired my bro, so worn.”

You stifle a yawn, putting a prong on his shoulder and saying, “Then go to fucking sleep. I’ll bring you to a block that you can use for that.”

Gamzee hum-purrs and suddenly hugs you, for no real reason? You are a little startled by this at first, but you hug him back briefly before nudging him with your elbows and hassling him, “Come on, don’t you dare fall asleep out here. I am not going to carry you. You’re an adult, act like one.”

Gamzee fucking nuzzles the side of your nugbone while purring loudly, what the _fuck_ , and you push out of his grasp. He easily lets you go and your face feels like it’s getting hot. You grab a hold of his prong and start walking, relieved that he seems willing to let you basically drag him around right now. You have a feeling that his willingness might have something to do with how fucking tired he is.

“You pitiful goddamn wreck of a troll,” you grumble as you walk, ignoring the heat on your face, “I bet you’re more asleep then awake right now, you over affectionate fucker. Come on, let’s get you to a block before you further debase both yourself and me with your public displays of pale pity.”

Gamzee giggles, honest to fuck _giggles_. What the fuck. It’s weird and endearing at the same time, and you’re even more determined to make sure he gets somewhere to sleep soon. You move quick and with purpose, finally arriving at a door that you belatedly realize is the door to your own block. Well, that’s a bit embarrassing, but when you glance at Gamzee he seems to be struggling to keep his gander bulbs open.

You sigh softly and ask him, “Do you mind sleeping in my block?”

Gamzee blinks and smiles, warm and soft, as he says, “Sure. Wouldn’t mind at that a bit.”

You nod and let go of his prong, unlocking your door and saying, “Go ahead and go in and get to sleep, alright?”

“Wait, what all about you,” Gamzee asks.

You access the paperwork from your sylladex, grabbing them and turning to say to him, “I have to give this to Feferi really quick.”

Gamzee stares at you for a second before saying, “Karkat, I all do be highly doubting as she would be wanting you to bother her at four in the morning for some shit as could wait till tomorrow night, after you and she have both slept.”

“You are shitting me. It can’t be that late,” you say, going to pull out your phone to check when Gamzee snatches the papers in your prong too quick for you to see him do it. One second, you’re holding them, and the next Gamzee has them.

“Hey,” you shout and reach for them, “Give those back!”

As you are leaning forward, on the tips of your strut pods, trying to get within the reach of the papers that your _asshole_ of a moirail is keeping just out of your reach, Gamzee leans down slightly before grabbing you and pulling you up onto his shoulder.

You will deny to your death that you yelped in surprise, and he stands back up effortlessly to your chagrin, the paper proof of all those hours of your arduous work disappearing into the flashing multicolor daymare of his sylladex as he deadpans, “Nope.”

“ _Gamzee_ ,” you shriek, face and auricular shells burning as he carries you on his shoulder while walking into your block.

“I swear to fuck, if you don’t put me down I’m going to fucking,” you trail off, not able to think of anything, before finally just saying, “Just put me the hell down and give those papers back to me already for fuck’s sake!”

“You need sleep, as does any other motherfucker,” Gamzee says, closing the door to your block behind him. “I see as it be my responsibility as to ensure you all do get what sleep you need.”

You blush at that, hesitating because you know you should let him do his job as your moirail and take care of you when you’re being stupid. Even if you don’t really _feel_ like you’re being particularly stupid right now. Either way, you relax some as you give up and grumble out, “At least lock the fucking door then.”

Gamzee purrs loudly and quickly locks the door before asking, “Now which one of these here doors do be leading to your respiteblock?”

“Put me down already asshole, I can walk on my goddamn own,” you mutter.

Gamzee laughs and puts you down carefully, saying, “Fine, fine, but don’t all think I’m gonna let up on you all getting at to your ‘cocoon for sleep.”

Once you are standing on your own two strut pods again, you hesitate slightly before saying, “I could sleep in our pile with you again.”

Gamzee frowns, silent for a moment before responding, “You need to be sleeping in your sopor Karkat.”

“I can sleep in my recuperacoon any damned day,” you hiss defiantly, trying not to let yourself get too flustered by what you’re saying. “It’s not like I can sleep with _you_ every day.”

Gamzee hesitates, making a quiet uncertain noise as he glances away, before huffing out of his cartilaginous nub and looking back to you as he says, “If that’s all being what you’re certain you want for to do my brother.”

You frown now, wondering if you’re pushing him to do something he’s not comfortable with, concerned as you tell him, “If you don’t want me to sleep with you, you can just say so.”

Gamzee shakes his nugbone, saying, “Ain’t being like that at all.”

You wait for him to continue, but he adds nothing and seems to not be trying to think about what to say, so with a little frustration you ask, “Why don’t you tell me what you want to do then?”

Gamzee blinks, and after a second of silence, he glances away with a shrug, quickly looking back at you as he says, “Sleep. I’m motherfucking tired as hell. You sleep where you want, long as you do get to sleeping, I’ll be to all happy about it.”

With that, Gamzee turns and walks over to the pile, and you blink, utterly baffled. What? The fuck? That. Didn’t answer your question at all, really. Like, it kind of did, but in the vaguest way possible. You had wanted to know what he _wanted_ , regarding you sleeping with him or not, and instead he just told you that he _wanted_ to sleep. Like that wasn’t obvious, or like. Or like he didn’t want to answer your actual question. As you watch Gamzee get into the pile, a gut-deep concern making your chest feel tight and heavy as you realize that, he’s almost _never_ directly said what he wants. You don’t think that shit could be a religious secret, no, you have a foreboding feeling that it’s something from Gamzee’s past. Something that makes him reluctant to share his desires.

Despite all signs and compulsions telling you to do otherwise, you take a deep breath, and you leave it alone. Just for now. You need to address this issue as soon as possible, but for now, you think it can wait until you wake back up.

So, you walk over to the pile and climb up beside Gamzee, wrapping your arms around his torso and closing your gander bulbs. You’ll ask him about it tomorrow, for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yo i got fanart, i forgot to post links to y'all, my apologies bc this shit is Quality  
> here's Uzdavi, making me gay with her buff beauty <3  
> http://roshiia.tumblr.com/post/167100493102/uzdavi-is-so-good-though-wtf  
> here's some cute short comics that aren't story-relevant but still great!  
> http://roshiia.tumblr.com/post/167100533832/i-thought-about-where-would-vriska-be-in-the  
> http://roshiia.tumblr.com/post/166993676852/its-my-bedtime-and-i-was-too-tired-to-color-these  
> also feferi being pissed  
> http://roshiia.tumblr.com/post/166950265757/i-drew-feferi-from-why-am-i-even-doing-this-s  
> and finally this drawing of a scene from my fic! @A@  
> https://ceabu.tumblr.com/post/177016507251/you-smile-softly-at-him-acting-on-whim-and
> 
> you guys are amazing <33333333


	5. Chapter 5

A shrill noise makes you jolt awake and draw your sickle out of your strife deck. The blur of sleep clears from your pan after a second, and the first thing you realize is that Gamzee is sitting up half way next to you, a frown on his face, managing to look utterly confused with his gander bulbs still closed. Then as the noise continues to blare, you realize that it’s coming from your sylladex. You go through all the electronics you have before you figure out that it is your phone making the noise, the screen displaying Sollux’s sign before you manage to get it to shut the fuck up.

You’re growling, trying to catch your breath and _seriously_ considering beating the shit out of Sollux for this shit. It is not fucking funny, it is not goddamn cool. You hate when he tries to treat you like you’re fragile over small stupid bullshit, but this is something he _seriously_ shouldn’t fucking do. You already have enough fucking problems with sleeping soundly, the bifurcated bulge.

“The fuck,” Gamzee slurs out quietly, slowly sitting up further.

Kind of a delayed reaction considering that you turned the noise off already, but whatever.

“Sollux is a fucking asshole,” you explain as simply as you can. “I have no fucking clue how he does this shit but I’m going to fucking kill him one night, I swear to fuck.”

Gamzee shakes his nugbone slowly, most of his body moving as well, before blinking and squinting his gander bulbs open as he murmurs, “Not that. Or not totally? Fuck words.”

Gamzee yawns, leaning towards you as he says, “Was meaning your growling and weapon pulled tense. Chill out my bro, just you and me in here, your door all locked and shit. Ain’t no one gonna be getting at to you.”

You grumble out, “That shitty loud noise startled the fuck out of me, that’s all.”

Gamzee snorts and rests his nugbone on your shoulder, his horns turned away from you as he complains, seemingly to himself, “I feel you my brother. Was sleeping all well, not a daymare in sight, fucking rude as fuck. Motherfucking heinous un-miraculous unjoyful noise such as that ain’t should even exist…”

His sentence erodes away into grumbled unhappy noises and you feel yourself calm down, a pressing pain in your pan that you didn’t notice a second ago fading away. You sigh out softly and put your sickle away, pleased and content as you quietly mutter, “Damn fucking bullshit clown, you’re an affectionate fuck with no off switch, aren’t you?”

There’s a pause before Gamzee shifts, pulling back and looking at you, blinking for a second before saying, “’Bout that. You said something on about that last night, didn’t you? Said something about over affection and public displays?”

After a pause where you have to remember that yeah, you guess you did, you shrug as a reply. Gamzee seems awake now as he frowns at you and says, “I was all mostly asleep and shit, but I never had no intention to push shit on you.”

“What the fuck,” you scowl and hiss out, “You didn’t fucking push me into doing anything, you damned giggle idiot!”

Gamzee seems to glare at you slightly before huffing out of his cartilaginous nub and mumbling, “All made to imply as you weren’t liking.”

You pinch the bridge of your cartilaginous nub for a second before dropping your prong and looking at him as seriously as you can, telling him calmly, “Okay, let me tell you one thing for fucking certain. If I didn’t want something, you would know beyond a doubt, okay? I would not just goddamn imply that shit. If I didn’t want it, I would tell you, in no uncertain way, to _fucking stop_. Alright?”

Gamzee nods once, then seems to pause to think about something before saying, “Feel as like we might should have need to discuss this more. For all you didn’t tell at me to stop, you still got to telling me something about public displays as I can’t fully remember ‘cause I was all to being tired.”

Your cheeks tingle while you say, “Well, I don’t like talking about personal things in public. In case you haven’t noticed, I tend to enjoy my privacy.”

Gamzee hums slightly before asking, “What all about affection though?”

Your face probably goes red as you look away, nearly forcing the words through your teeth because it’s fucking embarrassing to admit, “I’m not _opposed_ to the idea. I’m not exactly used to being fucking tender towards anyone, let alone in public, but I do like the affection, okay? I tend to act over exaggeratedly affronted by shit that I don’t have any issues with because I. I don’t like looking weak in front of other trolls. I’m still trying to get used to being weak in front of _you_.”

Gamzee laughs slightly, grinning and saying, “Guess as I can all be understanding at that.”

You huff and gesture towards him, asking, “What about you?”

Gamzee blinks and repeats, “What ‘bout me?”

You scowl and say, “I’m obviously asking what your thoughts are about public affection and all that.”

Gamzee shrugs and says, “What you all done said seems to be making sense. All as I can note as would be a thing for me is my paint. I all do think as I went and mentioned that before though, so.”

“I, what,” you shake your nugbone and say, “Gamzee, I didn’t ask if what I said made sense. None of the things you just said tell me jack goddamn shit about your preferences as far as public affection. And you never mentioned anything about your makeup, so what the fuck is that about exactly?”

“Oh, I ain’t told you about that yet?” Gamzee pauses slightly before telling you, “My makeup ain’t supposed to get smudged nor smeared off, so you all got to take care as to not mess it up. As to private and public, being weak in front of others, if you really all do got to be hearing on my take of it, all that don’t matter a motherfuck to me in truth, so long as you be at careful when touching my makeup. That’s all I care on about truly. All else as I can think on is other things with my faith, and you already do take enough care and caution on that, so there ain’t much of anything as I got a strong opinion on.”

“You’re absolutely dead ass serious right now aren’t you,” you flatly say, almost not believing that someone could genuinely not give a fuck about something like this. But, this is Gamzee, and you’re beginning to learn that he defies just about every expectation that you have. In a good way, you feel you should add.

“Nah, I’m being on the level with you,” he says easily. He honest to god _pouts_ at you, and asks, “Why for I shouldn’t? Here between just you and me, and all on our pile as well. Ain’t got no reason as to be fronting at you Karkat.”

“You’re something else Gamzee,” you mutter half to yourself. You pause before saying, “I should probably see what the fuck Sollux wanted though, before he tries to make us go fucking deaf again.”

Gamzee makes a disgusted face before grunting unhappily and flopping back onto the pile, and you snort at how he obviously doesn’t want to deal with anything right now, standing up and saying with a slight smile, “I never said you had to do anything, don’t give me that look. You can do whatever you want, I’m pretty sure they don’t even know you’re here. Scratch that, I’m positive they don’t know. If they did, they would be trying to start useless arguments and fights.”

“Wait, the motherfuckers still all be disagreeing on about what all did happen,” Gamzee asks, still laying back, but seeming alert and worried instead of at ease.

You frown and shrug, saying, “Not exactly. Feferi’s word is final, so it’s mostly just a lot of them complaining about one thing or another. They tend to do that at any given opportunity, so don’t take it too personally. They’ll have less time to complain with the new orders I sent out last night before I ran into you, which reminds me, I still need to give Feferi those damned papers you took from me.”

His terrible sylladex pops into existence, and you squint against the eyesore as, instead of accessing the card like a normal troll, he just. Reaches out to one of the floating cards, seeming to touch or grab it, somehow, even though sylladexes aren’t _supposed_ work like that, and the papers appear in his prongs. You’ve seen him do it a few times before, and you still haven’t figured out how the fuck he manages to pull things out of his sylladex like that, but you guess it’s not all that important.

He sits up, staring at them for a second before standing up and walking over to you, offering them to you as he tilts his nugbone and asks, “This all shit from what as your threshers do?”

“Partially,” you say, taking the papers and storing them in your simple, logical, _single color_ sylladex. “It’s official reports from all the various militias. There are also message boards I keep in constant contact with, so that more immediate problems, like if someone needs backup or something, can be solved as quick as possible. But these are more for official record reasons or whatever you want to call it. Some idiot decided that paper forms would be more legitimate, so now I get to spend countless hours reading through all this crap. The idiot was me when I was ten, just to be clear.”

“So why do all them army fuckers got to be out and about in space? Is there being all some kind of war being going on that I ain't heard on until now," Gamzee asks with a frown.

“No, no, nothing like that,” you say with a wave of your prong. “It's just that the Condesce had a lot of colonies out in space. So, the army has been going to them and telling them about the new empress and all that. Some of them are not exactly loyal to the Empire, so that's why they are all out there."

"Shit my brother, sounds like a motherfucking war all in my auricular sponge clots," Gamzee says while chuckling.

"Look,” you roll your gander bulbs and tell him, “this probably won’t be a shock to you, but this political shit is way more complicated than it sounds. There's a reason all the army vessels have no symbols of the Empress. This is not a problem or a war. Sometimes a few minor forces have to be subdued, but it's never escalated to the point of an honest war. I know what I'm doing, Gamzee.”

“Chill my brother,” he says with a wave of his prong, “I never all thought that you didn't know all what you were doing. Just having concern at your general direction."

You snort, flattered as you mutter, “You're basically oozing pale worry over nothing then."

"Better to worry and have it told at me that it ain't a concern,” he says with a smile. “I highly be doubting you’ll need it with all the Imperial Army at your command and access, but if you need some help with fighting, you always got my clubs Karkat.”

Well, if you were flattered before, you’re embarrassed now. That was a pretty brazen pale flirtation, offering to fight for you. Then Gamzee hums while scratching the back of his nugbone, saying, “My family would also probably be all to not minding fighting random fuckers long as we got to keep the blood.”

Now you’re back to wondering if he meant what you originally thought, or if he was inadvertently flirting again. You know what, fuck it. You’re his moirail now, you totally have a right to call him out on that shit and ask directly.

“Gamzee,” you say and Gamzee looks at you, waiting for you to continue, “were you purposefully flirting when you offered to help?”

Gamzee blinks, lips going tight for a moment before saying uncertainly, “No?”

You raise an eyebrow and he fidgets slightly, glancing around the room, and is he fucking blushing again? Goddamn it, you can’t tell with his hair over his auricular shells. You huff and go towards him, Gamzee looking back at you as you get close. He stays still for you again as you use both your prongs to push his hair behind his auricular shells.

“Fucking knew it,” you mutter, a little proud of yourself for being able to tell.

Gamzee laughs breathily, sounding a bit nervous as he asks, “So uh, what all I said was flirting? Was it at least pale flirting?”

You step back and smirk at him, letting your gander bulbs droop half-shut as you say, “You offered to fight for me, you tell me.”

The purple on his auricular shells gets darker as he quietly says, “Oh.”

Gamzee laughs again, saying, “Just said as what felt natural. Even as it wasn’t fully intentional as flirting, I did all mean it, so I’m holding to it.”

“Don’t worry,” you say with a smile, “From now on I will gladly point out flirting, whether it comes from you or someone else.”

You pause before mentioning, “Like Feferi was probably ashen flirting when she intervened between you and Nepeta.”

Gamzee blinks, then grimaces, “Motherfucking what?”

“Trust me it’s a lot better and healthier than the brief black crush she had on you while we were trying to come to terms of peace,” you tell him.

Gamzee makes another disgusted face, shaking his nugbone after a second and hissing out, “Guess Prakis was all right about her trying to get in quadrants with me. And doubly right as it wasn’t red as like I hoped it wasn’t and feared it was. Not as like I had any interest in her either way. Romantic shit definitely was not even being near to being on my pan during that unhappy time.”

Huh, well, at least it sounds like he can recognize unhealthy foundations for starting romances.

“What about ashen,” you ask, more curious then anything. Gamzee groans, looking displeased by the idea, which isn’t really a bad thing given that ashen is still black romance.

“Fuck, I dunno. Guess she would all keep Nepeta from killing me but. Ain’t like I want to be all hate-macking on Nepeta, or her on me. I ain’t sure I hate Nepeta in like any way, let alone romantic. In fact, I ain’t sure I hate Feferi romantically either,” Gamzee frowns thoughtfully for a moment. “But honestly, fuck if I all know how ashen even begins to work, and either way that shit is all for Messiahs to decide. So I guess if she’s meant to be mediating Nepeta’s killing lust and me, then who the fuck am I to be arguing? Or at least unduly arguing that is, seeing as it’s still being black and what all.”

You hesitate, wondering if you should even ask what he means by his gods being the ones who decide quadrants, thinking that even if he explained it, you still wouldn’t understand since it’s probably one of the weird beliefs he has. You’re not comfortable with thinking that he’s just with you because he thinks his gods want him to be though.

So you take a breath and say, “Okay, so, I am a little reluctant to say something because I realize that you have strange beliefs that I’ll never fully understand, but I have to ask. When you say your gods decide quadrants, does that mean you’d get with someone just because you thought they wanted you to be with them?”

Gamzee blinks at you, scowling as he hisses out, “Fuck no. Messiahs ain’t about none of that forcing noise. Messiahs all to plan out how a motherfucker’s life is to be. Faithless gladly walk in what path as they have provided, and to a certain point the Messiahs all plan out who’s to be your quadrants as well, but that still be ultimately left up to the motherfucker’s choice.”

You sigh, relieved, “Alright. Good to know. I was not very fucking comfortable to think that you were only with me because of your beliefs.”

Gamzee scoffs, smirking at you as he says, “Nah my brother. I’m all with you ‘cause I want to be, just as like you be with me for the same reason. Only difference is being as I believe Messiahs guided me to be with you.”

“I don’t think I will ever fully understand the religious thinking, but I’m content as long as you are with me because you want to be, instead of some other reason,” you say.

You jump as your phone blares out that same high-pitched noise, then you quickly pull your phone out of your sylladex once again, screeching wordless anger until you get it to turn off again.

“I swear to the eldritch horrorterrors that only exist in our collective daymares, I am going to rip all of Sollux’s horns straight out of his nugbone and shove them up his goddamn nook,” you spit while catching your breath, you are getting fucking sick of this quickly.

“Whoa my brother,” Gamzee says quietly, sending a brief tingle down your spine that makes you shake your nugbone, your frustration mostly quashed to your slight confusion.

You blow air out of your talk blaster, ignoring the weird shit that just happened, and mutter, “Fucker just doesn’t know when to stop.”

“What’s he wanting anyway,” Gamzee asks.

“To piss me off,” you grumble, a quiet growl forming in your squeal pipette.

“You being for serious,” Gamzee asks, sounding surprised.

“What,” you reply unthinkingly, before saying, “No. I don’t know what the hell he wants. I fucking highly doubt the idiot would want to piss me off on purpose.”

“What if he was going all spades shaped at after you,” Gamzee questions with a tilt of his nugbone.

You wave it off and say, “Like I said, I highly fucking doubt it. This is similar to the kind of shit he used to do when we were younger. I think we’ve known each other too long to be in any kind of serious romance together. He’s just a hatched asshole who likes teasing and irritating others for his own amusement, and I’m just a hatched asshole who has a foul temper with an inventive vocabulary to match.”

Gamzee shrugs and says, “If you say so Karkat.”

You frown and say, “I should go deliver these papers to Feferi though. Are you going to stick around?”

Gamzee frowns and glances away, muttering, “Ain’t too certain yet.”

After a pause, you say, “Well, if you need to go, I understand. It was nice to see you though.”

Gamzee smiles and says, “Was a right proper enjoyment for me as well, all being able to see at you and speak all personal. But seeing as we both got responsibilities, I think you were all right in us both having to go back to doing them. So, you all get to being what military leader as you be so good at doing, and I’ll get to being what Grand as I be trying to be good at doing.”

“What happened to the bulge of a clown who yelled at me,” you ask with a smirk.

Gamzee snorts and responds, “What happened to the motherfucker as nearly gutted me?”

“After you nearly smashed my pan in,” you retort. After realizing how ridiculous you both acted back then; seriously, how stupid were you for even _mockingly_ black flirting with him to provoke him during a fight; you say, “Good fucking point though, shit. We’re both fucking idiots.”

Gamzee laughs softly and murmurs, “Might be so, but at least we’re being each other’s idiots.”

After a moment, you mutter quietly, “Fucking hell.”

Gamzee blinks and hums at you, looking a little concerned. You sigh before saying, “You are extremely romantic, and I enjoy hearing it, but it makes me flustered and surprises me and I don’t ever know how to respond.”

Gamzee chuckles slightly, “If it all makes you feel better, I’m all to blushing like a motherfucker over it.”

You scoff and admit, “It might make me feel a little bit better.”

You pause before saying, “Alright, I’ll keep in contact with you, and, stay safe, alright?”

Gamzee smiles, gander bulbs closing half way as he says, “I will, and you all do the same my brother.”

“Yeah, I think I can do that for you,” you grin before turning and starting to walk out of your block. “Lock the door when you leave. I’ll make sure to make you a copy of the key, so you can come in when you want.”

“Aww,” Gamzee says softly, “fuck Karkat, that’s sweet as hell for you to do that for me.”

“Why wouldn’t I do something nice for you,” you rhetorically ask before leaving your block.


	6. Chapter 6

You’re an idiot and quite possibly the worst goddamn moirail ever. You’re a shit-stained, pan-smashed, nook-licking, incompetent inadequate failure; _you’re a mistake_. THE POINT IS. Not that, fuck. The point is that you forgot to ask Gamzee about the way he seems to avoid telling you what he wants. He left before you had remembered that you wanted to ask, and now fucking dim season is coming, so no smart troll is going to go outside for a while. While you can ask him over chat, you think it would be a better idea to talk face-to-face about it. Online chat, while useful, leaves too many chances for misunderstandings. Especially when it’s on an emotional topic, typed out words could never compare to spoken words. So now you get to sit on your goddamn laurels with your thumb up your spinal crevice, a lump of searing self-hatred sitting in your thorax over your lapse of focus. It’s a familiar feeling at least, the clench and burn of shame right between your lungs, the burn of a non-existent fire emitting black smoke that fills your pan with guilt, the torrid swirl of your pan reminding you of every little thing you ever did wrong, telling you that you managed to fuck up _again_.

You are walking around the battleship, doing a security check with dim season setting in, making sure that you know who’s going to be hanging out here. Or at least that’s your excuse. This might not be entirely necessary, but you can’t stand being still right now.

“Martinet,” a familiar voice sounds inside your skull, freaking you the fucking hell out.

“God damn it Wottur, what did I say about using telepathy to speak to me,” you spit out, knowing he can hear you.

“Only in emergencies,” he replies. “And if the Kindness storming into our personal quarters demanding to speak with you isn’t on your ridiculous list of emergency situations, it _should_ _be_ , quite frankly. I see you’re in hallway seven. If you both head to conference block five-c, you should both arrive about the same time.”

“I’ll be there as quick as I can,” you say, turning on your heel and marching as quick as you can.

If five-c is the closest for both of you, then that means she was probably somewhere in hallway three. You had thought she and all the generals had left, but if Feferi is here, that means at least Sollux and Eridan are as well. You just hope the rest did honestly leave, because you’re damned sure you all would end up murdering each other if you were stuck together too long. Fuck, you’ll be damned lucky if just the four of you manage to get through the perigee without murdering each other.

When you get to conference block five-c, Feferi isn’t there yet and you stand beside the table as you wait for her. It’s not long before she enters the block, turning to look at you, obviously pissed about something.

You cautiously ask, “What’s going on? What happened?”

“What happened will not be discussed until Grand Pulpiteer is present in the conversation as well,” she says coldly, and great good fucking hell, she’s actually using his title. That probably doesn’t bode well for anyone involved. “However, since he refuses to reply to my trollian messages, I need you to get him to get in contact with one of us. Do you think you can manage to do that?”

“Uh,” you say, hesitative to invite Gamzee before you know for certain what she’s going to say. “Can you please tell me what the hell this is about first?”

“ _Just get him already_ ,” Feferi snaps, fangs bared as her fins flare out in threat.

You repress the urge to punch her face and run, managing to suppress the urge by thinking about how much that would probably fucking hurt. Punching Gamzee that one time hurt like a fucking bitch, and she’s the highest on the hemospectrum so you might just break your fucking prong.

“Okay,” you say neutrally, “give me a few minutes.”

Feferi purses her lips and says, “I’m waiting.”

You pull out your phone, still nervous as you start messaging Gamzee. You don’t even know if he’s gotten back to his church yet for fuck’s sake.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] started trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]

CG: OKAY SO, FEFERI IS REALLY FUCKING PISSED ABOUT SOMETHING THAT SHE REFUSES TO SPEAK TO ME ABOUT UNTIL YOU ARE TALKING TO US AS WELL. I’M ASSUMING THAT SHE IS MEANING THROUGH CHAT OR SOMETHING, BUT CAN I JUST TAKE A MINUTE TO SERIOUSLY STRESS THE FACT THAT I HAVE *NO IDEA* WHAT SHE’S GOING TO SAY. BECAUSE THAT IS CONCERNING ME VERY FUCKING MUCH RIGHT NOW. I REALLY DO NOT WANT TO THROW YOU INTO A SITUATION BLIND LIKE THIS, IT MAKES ME NERVOUS. IF I KNEW WHAT WAS GOING ON I COULD AT LEAST TRY TO EASE YOU INTO IT AND MAKE SURE YOU DON’T JUST FUCKING FLIP YOUR SHIT AND GO INTO A HIGHBLOOD RAGE. OR BLIND OR HOLY OR WHATEVER THE FUCKING HELL YOU WANT TO CALL IT. THE POINT IS I AM STRESSING OUT AND FEFERI IS ANGRY AS HELL AND YOU FLIPPING OUT ON TOP OF ALL THAT WOULD ONLY BE THE FUCKING MUCUS ON THE GRUBLOAF THAT I DON’T FUCKING NEED RIGHT NOW.

CG: I’D ALMOST RATHER HER TO BE COMING STRAIGHT AT ME WITH HER 2X3 TRIDENT RIGHT NOW. EXCEPT NOT REALLY BECAUSE IF SHE TOOK HER WEAPON OUT ON ME ONE OF TWO THINGS IS GOING TO HAPPEN, ONE OF THOSE THINGS BEING ME DECAPITATING HER WITHOUT ANY QUESTIONS ASKED, AND SHE DAMNED WELL KNOWS THAT. THIS IS NOT THE POINT OF THIS CONVERSATION, BUT IT IS A FACT, HOWEVER OFF-TOPIC IT MIGHT BE. EITHER WAY, I’M KIND OF SUBTLY FREAKING OUT IN CASE I SOMEHOW HAVEN’T MADE THAT CLEAR TO YOU YET, AND AM NOT REALLY WANTING TO DO WHAT SHE ASKED SINCE IT’S UNNERVING ME. SO YEAH, I’M RAMBLING ABOUT ALL THE DIFFERENT HOOFBEASTMANURE THAT I’M WORRIED MIGHT HAPPEN SINCE I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT KIND OF SHIT WE’RE ABOUT TO HEAR FROM FEFERI. I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND, THOUGH I GUESS I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU WOULD? I’M JUST VERY UNCERTAIN ABOUT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW.

CG: SO YEAH, WHENEVER YOU’RE NOT BUSY PLEASE SEND ME A MESSAGE.

TC: i Be aLl hErE My bRo aNd i tHiNk aS I MiGhT ShOuLd tElL YoU To cAlM FoR A MoThErFuCkInG MiNuTe oR TwO

CG: OH, HEY THERE.

TC: hEy :o)

TC: BeFoRe wE AlL GeT On tO ThE BuLlShIt aBoUt fEfErI AnD HeR MoThEr fUcKiNg rAgE I FiGuRe aS I OuGhTa gEt yOu tO StOp tYiNg yOuR OwN MoThErFuCkInG ThOuGhTs uP In wOrRy

TC: CaUsE It aLl sEeMs tO Me aS YoU Be dIsPrOpOrTiOnInG ThIs sHiT

CG: OKAY, I. AM NOT EXACTLY ARGUING. BUT HOW THE FUCK IS THIS NOT SOMETHING TO WORRY ABOUT? I WOULD APPRECIATE AN EXPLANATION ABOUT YOUR LOGIC HERE, IS ALL. IF THAT’S NOT TOO MUCH TO ASK.

TC: nAh iT’S ChIlL I AiN’T MiNdInG In tHe lEaSt tO AlL GiVe aT YoU SoLiD ReAsOnS As tO TrUsT ThAt yOu sHoUlD Be tO SeTtLe dOwN ;o)

TC: tHe rEaSoNs i gOt aRe bEiNg bEcAuSe aS LoNg aS ShE DoN’T TaKe bAcK WhAt sHe aLl sAiD AnD TrY To FiGhT My fAmIlY I AiN’T ReAlLy cArInG WhAt tHe fUcK As sHe gOt tO SaY OnE WaY Or aNoThEr

TC: WhIcH MeAnS As i aIn’t aLl bOuNd tO Be rAgInG HoLy oR BlInD So tHaT MeAnS YoU AiN’T GoTtA GeT CoNcErN On aT OvEr mE ;oP

TC: uNlEsS ShE AcTuAlLy wEnT ThReAtEnInG AfTeR YoU WiTh hEr iMpErIaL FoRk cAuSe tHaT AiN’T ShIt aS I’Ll aBiDe eItHeR

TC: bUt yEaH I DoN’T AlL ThInK ThOsE ThInGs aRe gOiNg tO HaPpEn

TC: PlUs sHe aLl dOeS Be tO RiLe eAsY It sEeMs

TC: WhIcH I’M AlL FaMiLiAr iN DeAlInG WiTh SiNcE I KnOwN At hEr a wHiLe aNd fRoM WhAt i bE KnOwInG, hEr rAgE Is eAsY To iGnOrE CaUsE It uSuAlLy bE MeAnInGlEsS

TC: sHe gEtS To mOtHeRfUcKiNg nEaR BlInD RaGiNg oVeR MoThEr fUcKiNg nOtHiNg bUt a mInOr iNcOnVeNiEnCe sOmEtImEs

TC: So tHeRe aIn’t nO ReAsOn aS To Be StReSsInG YoUrSeLf oUt aBoUt tHiS ShIt

CG: …MMMM. URGH. MAYBE YOU’RE RIGHT. MAYBE IT’S NOTHING TOO SERIOUS. SHE DOES GET EASILY EXCITED AND AGITATED WHEN SHIT DOESN’T GO EXACTLY THE WAY SHE WANTS. PRETENTIOUS FUCKING PRINCESS.

TC: DoEs tHaT MeAn i aLl cOnViNcEd yOu aS To cHiLl a lItTlE :oD

CG: YEAH. THOUGH I’M STILL A LITTLE CAUTIOUS, AND I FEEL LIKE MY WARNING ABOUT NOT KNOWING WHAT SHE’S GOING TO SAY NONETHELESS APPLIES.

TC: hAhA hOnK GuEsS I CaN Be tO AgReEiNg wItH ThAt sHiT

TC: tHaT BeInG SaId lEt’s aLl gEt a mOvE On aT To dEaLiNg wItH ThAt aNgRy gUpPy

CG: OH MY GOD DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH SHE’LL GET FUCKING SUSPICIOUS OR SOME SHIT. USING HER FISH PUN BULLSHIT AGAINST HER IS A HILARIOUS INSULT THOUGH.

TC: :oD :oD :oD :oD

You look up to Feferi and say, “Alright, I got him responding to me. Now what?”

Feferi sneers and asks, “I wish to know why he’s ignoring me on trollian firstly.”

“What. Are you fucking serious. What the fuck Feferi,” you say flatly.

She snarls and says, “Just ask him.”

You sigh and roll your gander bulbs, going back to your chat with Gamzee.

CG: SHE WANTS TO KNOW WHY YOU’RE IGNORING HER TROLLIAN MESSAGES. THOUGH I HAVE A FEELING THERE’S MORE TO THIS THEN THAT. OR AT LEAST I HOPE SO BECAUSE THIS DUMB PERSONAL AGGRIEVANCE REASON SHIT IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS.

TC: Uh

TC: WeLl sEe

TC: If i lOaD Up hEr pErSoNaL ChAt tHeN I’Ll aLl sEe hEr pAsT MeSsAgEs fRoM SwEePs aGo aS WeLl aNd i dOn’t wAnT FoR To rEaD ThEm

CG: OH

CG: MY

CG: NONEXISTENT

CG: GOD

CG: ARE YOU EVEN SERIOUS RIGHT NOW.

TC: ToTaL AnD EnTiRe sErIoUs mY BrOtHeR

CG: OF COURSE YOU ARE. WHY WOULDN’T YOU BE. WHAT WAS I EVEN EXPECTING AT THIS POINT. *SIGH*. THERE ARE A FEW IMMEDIATE SOLUTIONS I CAN THINK OF. FIRST, GET A NEW FUCKING ACCOUNT SO YOU CAN’T SEE THE OLD MESSAGES.

TC: wHaT AlL WoUlD I EvEn uSe aS FoR ThE ChAt hAnDlE

CG: THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO BE DISCUSSING SHIT LIKE THAT GAMZEE. MAYBE LATER WE CAN DISCUSS THAT IF YOU ARE *SERIOUSLY* THAT INVESTED. HERE ARE SOME MORE OPTIONS THAT WOULD BE QUICKER THEN THAT THOUGH. START UP A MEMO THAT INCLUDES ME, YOU, AND HER. WE COULD MAKE IT A LOCKED MEMO SO THAT ONLY THE THREE OF US CAN TALK IN IT. IT MIGHT GET HER TO FUCK OFF. MAYBE.

TC: i bArElY Do bE kNoWiNg hOw tO StArT A NoRmAl mEmO

CG: I CAN FUCKING DO IT, THEN. I KNOW HOW TO, TRUST ME, I’VE MADE SO MANY MEMOS AT THIS POINT IT’S LITERALLY RIDICULOUS. THE DETAILS OF ‘HOW’ ARE NOT VERY IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW. THE LAST THING I SUGGEST IS TO USE ANOTHER METHOD OF CONTACT. E-MAILS OR SOMETHING, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.

TC: I GuEsS ThE LaSt oNe aLl sOuNdS MoSt lIkE To bE EaSy aNd sHiT

TC: tHoUgH I HoNeSt wAs eXpEcTiNg yOu tO SaY ThAt i jUsT GeT To rEaDiNg tHeM OlD MeSsAgEs

CG: THAT IS ALSO A SOLUTION, IF YOU WANT TO DO THAT GO AHEAD, BUT I DIDN’T BRING IT UP BECAUSE IT’S PRETTY FUCKING OBVIOUS HOW MUCH IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. WHAT KIND OF NOOK FONDLING BULGE STAIN ARE YOU EXPECTING ME TO BE? I’M NOT GOING TO PRESSURE OR FORCE YOU INTO DOING DIDDLY SHITTING SQUAT.

TC: DiDn’t sAy i dOnE ExPeCtEd aS FoR YoU To fOrCe mE

TC: jUsT FiGuReD YoU MiGhT Be tO BrInGiNg iT Up aGaIn

CG: I HAVE NO REASON TO DO THAT BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU WOULD THINK ABOUT WHAT I SAID AND THAT’S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME. I KNOW IT’S NOT EASY TO FACE THINGS FROM YOUR PAST, NO MATTER IF THE THING IS SOME LITTLE UNIMPORTANT MISTAKE OR IF IT’S A HUGE RAGING TRAUMA. WHEN YOU’RE READY TO FACE IT, I’LL BE HERE FOR YOU, BUT UNTIL THEN I AM FINE WITH WAITING. THAT IS ALL I NEED TO OR HAVE TO SAY ON THE MATTER.

TC: …

TC: I

TC: tHaNkS KaRkAt

TC: I ApPrEcIaTe tHaT A MoThEr fUcK ToN :o)

You sigh and mutter, “I don’t think he’s going to reply to you on trollian. Though it doesn’t seem to be because he doesn’t want to talk to you. He’s being vague about it, but is there something else we can both contact him on?”

Feferi groans and says, “Fine.”

She takes her husktop out of her sylladex and quickly does something on it before setting it down on the table and pointing to something, demanding, “Tell him to set up an account for this. By the way, you should get one too asshole.”

You type the name of the app to Gamzee and tell him what Feferi said, having not heard of it and wondering if Sollux recently made it or something. After a few minutes, Gamzee responds to you, saying he used his title for a name, and you tell Feferi this. She searches for him, adding him to a list of contacts before clicking on his name and making a video call to him. Huh, well shit, that seems convenient.

Gamzee answers, looking mostly bored and maybe a tiny bit confused as he asks, “So what the fuck is going on?”

Feferi grins sharply, not looking the least bit fucking happy, “Glad that I fin-ally got both you buoys, I reel-ly needed to ask you both some-fin very im-port-ant!”

She pauses for a moment before spitting out, “When the _fuck_ were you going to shell me a-boat that apparent shark attack on an unknown planet?”

She laughs sharply and snarls out, “Because, in case you got conch-fused, I do not carp-preciate fin-ding out through a _cod damn paper ray-port_.”

You slap a prong to your forehead as you hiss, “Fuck.”

It totally slipped your pan, you know Bergis put it in the report, you even _read_ the damned thing. Plus, Bergis is thorough as hell, there’s no way he would not report that. You just utterly and completely forgot that you hadn’t told Feferi about it. Seems to be a reoccurring theme recently. Goddamn it. You feel like an idiot.

You look at Feferi and say, “That’s my fault. I meant to tell you, but it slipped my pan.”

“How cod being attacked just _slip your pan_ ,” Feferi shrieks, throwing out her arm in a frustrated gesture.

You resist the urge to growl as you say, “I’m sorry, all right. I was more focused on resolving the issue of the purples at the time. The fact is that getting attacked on planets isn’t exactly a new thing for the Imperial Army. I figured it was not a big deal and could wait until the more pressing matter had been dealt with.”

“Getting attacked may not be uncommon, but you’ve n-ebb-er kelp-t it from me before,” Feferi says. “So what if you were dealing with some-fin else at the tide? Even moor of a ray-son to shell me so that we cod send kelp!”

“I was unable to send any messages on the night of the attack because there was a psionic who managed to fry all of my electronics,” you explain. “By the time I got some new electronics, it was the next night and once again, I had more pressing issues. Those random fucking pieces of shit weren’t worth the fucking effort, okay?”

“But water-boat now,” Feferi asks. “Who knows who they were, or how many there were, or what they’ve been doing since that attack. They cod be moray trolls looking to sabotage the Empire and krill every-moby in power. That includes you, me, and all our hake-friends. You’ve given them time to re-grouper!”

“No, I haven’t,” you hiss out. “Or technically, no, _Gamzee_ hasn’t. He had the clowns take care of this problem.”

“You, they, he,” Feferi screams, “ _what_!”

“My unfaithful brethren –”

Gamzee gets cut off as Feferi shouts, “What the shell Karkat! This is ridiculous, dangerous, and borderline _in-sub-oar-dination_! You can’t just decide that it’s o-cray for the clowns to conduct what is bass-ically a military movement in sea-cret!”

“I didn’t fucking decide much of anything honestly,” you throw your arms up in the air as you yell back at her, “Gamzee said he would have his family take care of it and I figured, what the fuck, why not. I didn’t and _still don’t_ even know what fucking planet we were on, Feferi! The clowns have more tactical advantage then us in this situation.”

“Whale you shore decided not to tell me a-bout a single fin,” Feferi hisses.

“This right here, this exact conversation we’re having, is exactly _why_ I decided not to tell you at first. There was no time to argue about the piss-poor attempted attack, especially with the more important task of securing fucking peace between your pompous hair-brained royal gilled face and the ludicrous laid-back devoted blood clowns,” you say.

“So, what, you were just n-ebb-er going to shell me a-bout this incident,” Feferi scoffs, her teeth showing a little bit.

“No, you ignorant fuck! Are you even listening to a _word_ I’m saying? The plan from the start was to tell you eventually. I just fucking forgot to do that before turning in the damned report,” you pause before saying, “for that _single thing_ , I am sorry.”

Feferi laughs sharply and says, “Wow, oh my cod, I suddenly sea the light! You’re so right Karkat! Every-fin you did makes perch-fect sense! Not shell-ing me, letting otters we had no sea-cured allegiance with investigate an attack on the Im-pearl-ial Army, conch-veniently _forgetting_ all of this and tern-ing in a ray-port that had this attack cod-damn _explicitly mentioned_ in it. The ray-port you _read the conch-tents of before giving to me perch-onally_.”

“It was probably near damn four in the morning when I read it, so excuse fucking _me_ , if I basically just skimmed it,” you growl.

“ _Motherfuckers_ ,” the shout startles you and you turn to see Gamzee frowning on the husktop screen. He huffs through his cartilaginous nub and mutters, “stubborn loudmouths. How fucking loud does a brother invited to a conversation have to speak as to be heard?”

You glare at him slightly and retort, “If we’re loudmouths, the fuck does that make you since you shouted over us both?”

Gamzee gives you a flat, unimpressed look as he says, “Someone as don’t like to be shouting often. But can when given reason.”

Ugh, you have to actively try to not shrink or squirm at that near patronizing tone, like he’s talking to an unruly wiggler. He’s used it once before, when he was trying to get you to stop walking into the sunrise like an idiot. You enjoy hearing it as much now as you did then. Which is not at fucking all.

“What exactly did you have to add to this, aside from stopping us from yelling,” Feferi asks sharply.

Gamzee’s demeanor changes instantly, smiling as he says, “Oh yeah, I got some news as on what all you were just to be arguing about.”

“And that would be,” you prompt him when he doesn’t continue.

“My family found the heretical motherfuckers,” he says, beaming wide and by fuck, you can hear a slight purr in his tone. He’s proud as hell, that much is obvious. “I just got all to church a few minutes ago and that was all the first thing as my family told me all on about. They captured the whole lot as were on that blasphemed ground. Rounded up the considerable number of them in quick time, as like I all knew they would. My family does the work of the Messiahs’ motherfucking well and full. Ain’t too much as we’ve found out about the heathens themselves or what all sacrilegious doings as they had going down on that planet, seeing as the mobile circus did all just recent come back hive. But ain’t not a thing to be to worry on about, we will find out what secrets they got hidden in proper order soon enough. No matter what, my family will see to it that these motherfuckers _pay_.”

The way he snarled out the word ‘pay’ makes your pan feel distant, your emotions empty as you stare forward silently for a moment. Feferi’s voice sounds muffled as she speaks, you can’t even tell what she’s saying for a long minute. All that matters to you right now is the knowledge that there’s only one sure fire method to finding out anyone’s secrets efficiently without doubt that they might lie to you. You have no doubt that the highly zealous clowns with no cares for anyone out of their family would have absolutely _no_ fucking qualms with doing literally anything to get answers. As much as you are pale for Gamzee, you know he is one of them, he’d do anything to follow in what he believes. His gods come first, and while he’s never directly said that, you know it without hesitation. You’ve dealt with other clowns before meeting him, and even if you hadn’t, it’s pretty fucking obvious.

“No torture,” you hear your voice say firm, like you’re issuing a command.

It’s, you want to say it isn’t, but it might just be. Gamzee and Feferi both look at you, surprised, but their reasons for surprise are different. Gamzee didn’t except this stipulation. It hadn’t even crossed his pan that you would _ever_ tell him not to do something that involved his faith. And, as much as you yourself never expected to do it either, this one thing. This one thing you cannot allow. You are drawing a line, and hope to _fuck_ that he doesn’t call _you_ a damned heretic over it.

“I don’t give a damn about anything else you do,” you explain calm and honest. “Interrogation, killing them, getting paint from them. I, do not, give, a damn. No torture. That’s where I draw the goddamn line Gamzee. No one deserves to be tortured.”

Gamzee opens his talk blaster and you interrupt, snarling loudly, “ _No one_.”

He closes his talk blaster, looking at you silently as you realize that your pan is, somewhat, back to normal. Your hearing at least is no longer muffled, and you don’t feel quite as distant or detached compared to before.

While you’re counting the little victories, Feferi finally speaks up, voice tight with her nervousness as she says, “Wait, what, no, krill-ing and, and blood sacrifice or whatever that paint thing means, that’s not o-cray either!”

You don’t look away from Gamzee as you reply, “It’s creepy religious shit, yeah, but if the clowns decided to use their captives for spiritual means, as long as it doesn’t involve torture or rape, who fucking cares.”

Feferi gasps, “Karkat, how can you say that?”

“They would and should die either way,” you say. “They are enemies of the Empire, if for nothing else then the attack on the Imperial Army. Especially at what was meant to be a neutral peace meeting? If I had been able to and decided to contact you about it, I would have advocated for their deaths either way. We already killed several of them when they first attacked us. They signed their own death warrants when they thought attacking was a good fucking idea.”

You turn to Feferi to see her looking horrified. You frown and say, “I am your military leader because I can mentally deal with the fact that my actions lead to troll’s deaths. Sometimes on a large scale. That is the fucking job of a threshecutioner. You have trusted me with making decisions on when certain aggressive factions are too much of a persistent problem. You trust me to make decisions on when trolls need to die for the betterment of the Empire. Let me do my job. If you can’t handle this discussion, return to the political arena where your talents are better utilized. This is where my talents are best utilized.”

Feferi puffs out her cheeks, her fins wave backwards and forwards as she says, “I’m not a grub! I can handle a little talk a-boat death!”

She looks away for a moment before turning to Gamzee, saying, “Karkat is right though. I may not tide-ally agree with the whole krill-ing thing, but. Ab-shoal-utely no torture Gamzee. If we can all agree on that.”

Feferi pauses, looking to you, then back to Gamzee, “Then I will leave you both alone a-boat this manta.”

You look back to Gamzee, and he pauses before saying, “It’s gonna be difficult to do it and it’s gonna take a deal more time then I or my family might have liked, but,” he looks directly at you before answering, “it will be done as you’ve asked.”

You try not to let the instantaneous relief that floods your system show through any change in body movement or breathing, but Gamzee smiles softly and you wonder if you still showed some sign of the immense alleviation that you just felt. You look to Feferi and ask, “That good for you?”

She frowns and hesitates before saying, “Yeah.”

After another pause, she says, “I suppose that’s all I reel-ly wanted to talk a-boat then.”

“I won’t forget to tell you next time something like this happens,” you say.

Feferi sighs and says, “I may not agree with them tide-ally, but in the end, I do believe that you made the decisions that you thought were best at the tide. But yes, please do tell me sooner than when I get the paper ray-port next time.”

“I’ll be sure as to tell you if the information as comes up is important,” Gamzee says.

With a nod and a curt, “another tide then,” Feferi ends the call.

You stare at the empty table after Feferi puts her husktop back in her sylladex. The silence between you stretches out for a moment before Feferi says, “Sea you on the up-tide, crabcatch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to finish this by the end of the year, if you guys can't tell yet by the more frequent updates
> 
> wish me luck y'all ima die


	7. Chapter 7

You walk into your block and go into your respiteblock, opening the husktop on your desk and turning it on before sitting down in the chair. Once it’s on, you take a couple of minutes to find the program Feferi was using earlier, installing it on your husktop and setting up an account with your title as the username. Once you figure out how to add contacts, the list of your contact ends up listing Her Imperial Consideration, Diplomat Duelfire, the Clothier, the Delegate, the Revenant, the Pelterer, and Grand Pulpiteer. Equius and Tavros haven’t accepted your requests to add them as contacts yet, but you’re sure they will eventually, and you aren’t sure if you want to add the scourge sisters. Before you can try to decide if at least adding Terezi is worthwhile, the husktop rings, Gamzee’s account requesting a video chat.

You answer and the first thing you say to him is, “That was quick.”

He laughs, tucking his hair behind one of his auricular shells, and you wonder if he’s going to start doing that for you. If so, you would honestly kind of feel honored in a weird way you can’t quite explain.

“I just all did decide to get all at to my block so as to be in private first, else it might all have been sooner,” Gamzee says with a smile. You smile slightly, the conversation topic from earlier still making you feel a bit distant emotionally.

“Hey uh,” Gamzee speaks quietly after a pause, “I dunno if you got to reading my messages on trollian, but I all be sorry as if I upset you Karkat. I didn’t mean for to do that.”

You blink and say, “Shit, I didn’t even realize you were messaging me, sorry. It’s nearly impossible to hear my phone from inside my sylladex most of the time. It’s frustrating as hell.”

Gamzee shifts and glances away, muttering, “Well, either way, I true be sorry as to how it seems like I upset you.”

“No, you,” you stop, rubbing a few fingers against your temple for a minute before admitting, “Okay, having to clarify that torture is absolutely out of the picture might have elicited a negative response from me, but you listened so it’s not a big deal.”

“I mean it ain’t like I was all gonna be part of the interrogation since that ain’t my strong point.” You drop your prong to glare at Gamzee and he shrinks a little, quickly saying, “But now ain’t no one gonna do that. My family heckled me a bit about it, complained and shit too, but they ain’t argued against it. So ain’t none of what torture as you don’t want to happen will be to happen.”

You close your gander blubs and sigh slightly, quietly saying, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Gamzee murmurs back.

You smirk and say, “Sounds like you did encounter a problem since you mentioned getting heckled about what you asked. Let me guess, you ended up telling them about our moirallegiance?”

The fin on Gamzee’s auricular shell goes bright purple, huffing out of his cartilaginous nub before he mutters, “My brother, they all suspected as much before I even got the knowledge of my own feelings, let alone that it took me a while as to get the nerve as to motherfucking be telling them feelings at to you. So, it ain’t as much like I told, more like they playfully accused, and like fuck as I could deny, what with members of the family being able to see through better hidden secrets then the one as involved us being all romantic now.”

You scoff and say, “I don’t mind them knowing. The only reason I mind the trolls I know in the Empire knowing, is basically because I don’t want to fucking deal with half or more of them saying I’m fucking insane for entering a quadrant with you. I think some, or hell maybe even all, of the trolls from my battleship suspect it, but unlike my hatefriends, they have the decency, respect, and self-preservation to not ask. It’s not like any of the fuckers I know have any right to judge who I choose for my quadrants, but that won’t stop them from trying to state their dumbass opinions either way. It’s not like I’m going to keep us secret forever. You’re my moirail and I’m not ashamed of that. I just would like a little time to enjoy as few arguments as possible. A little peace and relaxation would be fucking nice for once.”

Gamzee smiles and says, “Well you know that I be all happy as to provide that for you if I’m able.”

“Yeah, I think you might have mentioned that one or two times before,” you say, mildly teasing him.

Gamzee snorts, and seems to hesitate before saying, “On that though. You seem caught up all unhappy still. Anything as I could do about that?”

You blink in surprise, having been trying to distract yourself and forget about the sick feeling in your gut from thinking about torture. Gamzee smiles faintly, saying, “I can all see it, even as you be trying to push it off. It’s about what all that torture shit as was spoken on before, right?”

You glance away and hesitate before saying, “Yeah. Sorry, it’s not like I’m mad or upset at, or because of, you. Just, the thought of torture is not really a pleasant one to have.”

Gamzee nods and says, “All be to pardon my assumption, but it’s ‘cause of the elder Captor, right? You two all do seem to be close, seeing as you have a friendly rapport and what all.”

Yeah, because what happened to Helmsman is totally the only reason why you think torture is unacceptable, and no other thing at fucking all. Gamzee can’t think of, and doesn’t know, any other reason that you would detest torture.

You are so not fucking ready to tackle that in any aspect though, so you shrug a bit and say, “I mean, we’re about as close as two un-quadranted trolls with a massive age difference can be. Which is to say we talk occasionally and we both accidently call each other the wrong names sometimes. Though I admit he does it more often than me, it’s understandable and doesn’t bother me. Not to say that either of us thinks that I act like the Signless or that he acts like Sollux. It’s just a familiarity problem, for lack of a better term, and I’m explaining entirely too much at this point. The point is yes, I guess you could say we’re close, but it’s not exactly like we’re hatefriends or anything.”

“But you know him well enough that he trusts he can tell you what all happened to him in the past, including all them terrible things as the Condesce did at him,” Gamzee says.

You scoff, knowing that it’s more like Helmsman doesn’t give a shit about who knows what happened to him, and remind him, “He also told you when he barely knew you, just because of your ancestor and their connection. What you know is about the same extent of what I know. I mean for fuck’s sake, when you were there, and he talked to us both, that was the first time I heard anything about him knowing your ancestor, let alone the fact that they were apparently moirails. It’s not like he tells me all his deep dark secrets or anything. But again, yes, I guess you could say he trusts me and I trust him too.”

Gamzee speaks quietly, “I all hadn’t been to think on about what all happened to the elder Captor and how it would be like what my family had planned for the heretics.”

You look at him sharply, saying, “Torture is torture Gamzee. It doesn’t matter who receives it or who gives it. It’s a despicable, atrocious thing to do.”

“I understand my brother,” Gamzee says, ducking his nugbone briefly before continuing, “and I do be apologetic. You did all to make it known what all you would not allow, and I respect that Karkat.”

Gamzee seems to hesitate before looking at you with a sheepish smile, his auricular fin tinting purple as he says, “Would it be all weird or improper for me to be saying as what I’m kind of pleased you were able to tell what all I was intending? Like Feferi got all stressful confused, but you knew straight and direct, and it is. Uh. Nice, I guess?”

You sigh and mutter, “It’s no weirder than anything else you’ve said to me.”

Gamzee pauses again before saying, “What all I meant though was that I had not been to consider as that the elder Captor might have all done trusted at with you some shit as he ain’t trusted with no one, not even my ancestor. Not out of any sort of reason aside from lack of ability to be to tell him, you all know what I mean?”

“If your insinuating that he replaced his deceased moirail with me, I would say you’re horribly and completely incorrect,” you say. “If you’re saying that sometimes he tells me things because he has no one else to tell and he knows I won’t tell anyone else, then I guess you’re right.”

Gamzee grumbles and says, “The second one. Damn my brother, do you really all be expecting me to be sending accusations your way? It ain’t as like my family and I ain’t got a similar set up. I mean, Prakis and I even all got a near identical set up, age and all. Talking with a motherfucker ain’t near to be the same as being pale with them.”

You pause before saying, “Sorry, guess I’m more used to defending myself on how Helmsman and I are close but platonic.”

“Ain’t nothing as to apologize for, as I all be sure as others call you out unduly on that,” Gamzee says with a wave of his prong.

After a pause in the conversation, you hesitantly say, “You know, I guess there was one thing he told me that no one else could know about. After the Condesce was killed, Feferi talked to Helmsman, asking what she could do for him.”

Gamzee prompts you by asking, “What all did he say?”

You scoff and shake your nugbone, still mildly impressed by Helmsman’s bluntness when he responded to Feferi, “He asked her to kill him.”

You realize that ‘impressed’ is maybe not the right word given what he asked, but whatever, that’s basically what you felt so.

“The brother has a want for death,” Gamzee asks breathlessly, like it surprises him. It doesn’t surprise you.

You scowl and roll your shoulders in a bit of a shrug as you say, “Not, exactly? At least I don’t think so. I’ve never exactly goddamn _asked_. As far as I understand, he’s acceptant that he’ll probably die eventually. I mean, it’s not like he’s actively tried to kill himself as far as I know, so.”

You pause, running your prong through your hair as you mutter, “The truth is I don’t know. I can’t say that I _want_ to know, as fucked up as that might sound. He’s lived well beyond what he was supposed to, it’s kind of understandable if he. I mean I think it’s. Everyone he’s ever known has died, and not only that, he’s met their fucking _descendants_ , including his goddamn own.”

You stop for a second, trying to sort out your thoughts and what you’re trying to say, but before you can get your pan sorted out, Gamzee speaks up, “Certain does all sound as a tragedy as I ain’t knowing if I could withstand it myself. Not all counting for all the other fucked up shit as unfortunately done occurred at him. Might be I should all pray proper for the brother to find peace with all he’s been through.”

You drop your prong, looking at Gamzee as you ask, “Find peace how?”

Gamzee shrugs loosely, replying, “I ain’t the one as could answer that. Only he would know, and since he was trusted by the Grand Highblood enough for him all to hear _and_ pass along the message of the Grand Highblood being a good clown, I don’t see as why Messiahs wouldn’t at least consider helping him. Whether it be as he lives still, or in death, I do believe he has well-earned some motherfucking peace and rest, for all I can’t bring either to him myself.”

You stare at him for a moment, again surprised by his compassion to trolls outside of his caste and religion, but eventually you say, “Yeah. He’s been through a fucking lot. I just wish I could do something more for him. All I do is sit around and feel fucking sorry for shit, for shit I didn’t do.”

Gamzee frowns slightly, saying, “Ain’t no good to put guilt all on yourself. It doesn’t even be making sense as to be doing that. Ain’t no way as you could have done changed shit from the past or like you could have all been to prevent the Condesce from doing what she done.”

You hum faintly, knowing he’s right in concept, but you’ve always had a tough time convincing yourself of the truth of it. For lack of a better response, you say, “I guess.”

You pause before you mumble, “But after Feferi refused his request. He told me something. We were alone, and I think. I think it was half a joke. A morbid as fuck joke that is probably not actually funny to anyone but him.”

You stop and pause for a moment, stumbling through your words, “He said, he said that, that Feferi and the Condesce were alike in, in how they both. Wouldn’t kill him.”

“Motherfuck,” Gamzee hisses softly.

After a second, you look up at Gamzee, saying, “I mean, it’s hardly fair to say that they are entirely similar, but I can see what he means.”

“Yeah,” Gamzee responds like he is caught off guard by what Helmsman said. “Messiahs though, that is some major heavy shit as to be carrying any kind of distance. When all did he be to speak this at to you?”

You shrug and say, “When I was ten, before I got my title.”

Gamzee stares at you with his talk blaster slightly open for a moment before he quietly asks, “And you been to keep your lips all sewed up on this matter for since then?”

You scowl, confused by the strange expression he used, asking back at him, “Who am I going to tell, Feferi? That wouldn’t change the fact that she doesn’t want to kill him. She’s too soft for that, fuck’s sake Gamzee, she can barely speak to Helmsman without feeling guilty for what her ancestor did to him, and tends to avoid him in general. It’s one of the reasons he’s on the training compound. Sollux? Hell, he and Helmsman basically can’t be in the same fucking _ship_ for an extended amount of time, before one or both end up having a damned helms overload.”

Gamzee blinks and tilts his nugbone slightly, asking, “What all is being a helms overload by the way? Meant to ask when you all mentioned as my ‘voodoos caused the younger Captor to be to have one before, but forgot.”

“It’s basically when a psionic troll gets so emotionally overwhelmed, from fear or anger or sadness or whatever, and their powers end up going out of control,” you explain, “which can be a threat to themselves and others. Like when they eat mind honey, if that helps give you an example. In both Helmsman’s and Sollux’s case, since they are both ridiculously overpowered psionics, the overload can manifest itself into almost literal lasers from their gander bulbs.”

“Whoa, wait,” Gamzee leans forward, towards what you assume is his husktop, asking, “On the level? They both be to flip out on that extreme for such a thing?”

You say, “Well luckily, neither of them has yet accidently given anyone a laser light show, but yes.”

You pause and give him a look before asking, “What would you do if you saw a genetic relative who either a, proves you should be long god damn dead, or b, you saw attached to the Condesce’s battleship?”

Gamzee pauses, looking to the side for a while before muttering, “Shit. Guess I’d flip out just as much too. By the Messiahs though, I couldn’t imagine keeping that shit for what, six motherfucking sweeps, without telling no one. It all had to all been hard and heavy on your pump biscuit and motherfucking soul.”

You shrug, saying, “I don’t know about all that. It’s been a long damned time since that conversation happened and for the most part, it’s easy enough to not think about. Plus, there’s no real point in bringing it up to anyone.”

Gamzee smiles and says, “Don’t be to worry Karkat, I ain’t bound to be spilling none of this to no motherfucker, your secrets are all mine as well.”

You feel your face get hot and Gamzee smirks, the fin on his auricular shell going purple, and you huff before replying, “Yeah well. Same. And all that. Or something.”


	8. Chapter 8

You kick open the door to your respiteblock, too pissed to care if it breaks, the surprise that it hasn’t broken yet through all the sweeps you’ve been doing this is subdued under your anger. You keep on snarling, your pan looping in frustrated circles, you’re stressed and tired and _livid_. Barely a fucking week into the twenty-fifth dim perigee, holy shit you can’t believe –

A loud rattling growl-snarl echoes against the walls of your block, a pressure against the back of your gander bulbs that makes you want to snap and hiss, a feral fury pounding against your fisted prongs. You turn and punch the door, howling as you pummel against the metal. The sting of pain eventually makes you wince and that tearing animal hatred lessens as you notice the red on your door.

You hiss and look at your prongs to see the broken skin. No broken bones though, you note as you clench and unclench them. A low hissing growl won’t stop coming out of your talk blaster, and you’re still pissed as all hell, but you should wrap up your wounds.

You hear your husktop ringing from the desk and that prickling anger rises back up like acid and bile, you slam to answer the call, not even bothering to look at who it is as you shout, “ _What_!”

The troll on the screen recoils slightly before leaning forward again, before speaking almost like they’re in awe, “Whoa, shit my brother, calm some.”

You bare your fangs as your squeal pipette makes that rattling growl-snarl once again, spitting out your words like acid lashes, “Fuck you, just get to the goddamn point, what the fuck are you going to ask me to do? You assholes always shrug off the dirty work that your oh-so inflated egos _apparently_ can’t be burdened with, so I always have to go and pick up what the hell you carelessly castoff so that something, fucking _anything_ useful can get done. So just tell me what fucking problem you decided to discount this goddamn time!”

You hear the troll scoff and you snap your teeth in an intended threat, and the troll asks you in a soft voice that seems to somehow tickle the back of your neck, “You even see at who you’re talking at, or you just striking out with your pent-up anger?”

The strange feeling causes your anger to lessen some, makes you focus and wonder who you are talking to. You blink rapidly, confused as you finally focus enough to see the troll who is video chatting with you. It’s Gamzee.

Your brows furrow with further confusion as you mutter, “What? Gamzee? What the fuck?”

Gamzee laughs and you are so damn confused, mostly because what the fuck was with that weird feeling a minute ago. Eventually he looks at you and you can see both fins on his auricular shells tinted purple as he says, “Fuck, I done nearly forgot you rage as hard as any family member I’ve known.”

You growl a low warning, still slightly angry, but nowhere near as much as before. Gamzee waves his prong, saying, “Ain’t an insult my brother. Just saying, been so long as I seen you get all truly riled up, since you were being all kind soft pale to me and what not. What’s gotten at to your aggravation sponge though?”

“What hasn’t,” you retort, a sharp laugh exiting out your squeal pipette, an unfamiliar joy lighting up inside you at the fact that someone is actually willing to _listen_ to you. You smile, warped through your growl, all your thoughts and frustrations trying to come out at once, “There’s fucking the – and they – _ha-ha_ – they are fucking, nothing but useless – I swear!”

You start pacing, the looping anger in your pan giving you artificial energy, you’re tired, you’re so fucking _tired_ , but you can’t sit still, can’t, can’t fucking, they won’t let you, your _body_ won’t let you, and you still can’t make yourself focus on saying just one thing, there’s _just so much_ that pissed you off, “Assholes, all of them, I’m going to shove my sickle up their nooks and rip them a new fucking – don’t know how to shut the fuck up and stop complaining like wigglers crying for their lusii, god _fuck_! Can’t even get a decent night of training in, _a-fucking-gain_. I shouldn’t be surprised! I shouldn’t expect anything less but it’s still so –”

You roughly grab your hair and hunch in on yourself as you pull at it, a wheezed grunt of vehemence and frustration and weariness, your gander bulbs pricking with dismay fluid.

“Hey, hey,” you hear Gamzee’s voice softly chide you, the same prickle on the back of your neck causing you to shudder slightly, and the anger in your tone bleeds out to a low whine of pure fucking fatigue.

You hear Gamzee inhale sharply, then he breathes out, his voice still making small shivers run down your spine, “Karkat, my brother, come here, please.”

After a moment of hesitation, feeling embarrassed and still confused about why or how Gamzee’s voice is causing you to feel this way, you roughly brush the dismay fluid out of your gander bulbs and finally go over and sit in your chair. “I’m fine,” you mutter to him, crossing your arms over your chest and definitely not pouting.

“No, you ain’t,” he says, and you startle a little at that. He smiles fondly and murmurs, voice low and once again causing your skin to prickle strangely, “It’s alright to be unwell, just you and me here, my brother. No judgement here, ain’t no problem for you to let go and be weak.”

You flush at his words, and you’re not stupid, you know that the pale quadrant can be the most dangerous. Trusting yourself fully to someone, letting them in on all your weaknesses, showing the chinks in your armor and trusting they won’t drive a knife through. You have been cut into pieces time and time again, almost literally speaking, you know the pain of knifes in your gut and claws in your squeal pipette – you need to stop thinking about it. He won’t do those things, you trust him, even if that trust still scares you a little.

Even so, there’s a lot of shit you can’t tell him yet. You want to be able to tell him eventually, and you already promised him and yourself that you will tell him eventually, but. You’re not ready to talk about it yet.

Not that what you want to tell him is even relevant to why you’re angry right now, but what he said reminded you of, of a lot of past shit that you want to tell him about some night. You frown and look away from him, honestly saying, “I don’t know what the fuck you expect me to say, but it’s nothing monumental or shocking. I am fucking exhausted and pissed, but talking to you makes my aggression go away, so now I’m mostly just left with fatigue.”

Gamzee purrs and asks, “You got any want at telling me what all happened in detail?”

“Well,” you say, looking at your bloody knuckles, “I really should get these wounds tended to. And I do think talking to you sounds relieving.”

You pause, cheeks and auricular shells burning as you look at him and say, “But a feelings jam would be a lot better if I was in our pile, if you’re okay with that.”

Gamzee’s auricular shells go purple once again, and he’s smiling and purring as he says, “Yeah, motherfuck yeah. You go on to our pile and let’s all get to having a bitchtits feelings jam.”

You nod, trying to swallow around the nervous lump in your squeal pipette. Holy shit, you’re about to pile your moirail over video chat. You grab your husktop and get up, walking out of your block and towards your pile. When you get there, you take a moment to think about how this is probably kinky as hell, before realizing that you want it near desperately right now. So you get comfortable, putting the husktop beside you before looking at Gamzee and quietly asking, “Are you somewhere comfortable too?”

Gamzee hums warmly, saying, “In my sleeping pile. Ain’t as like our pile, but. It’s comfortable.”

You recall the giant well-used pile of clothes, soda bottles, and other clown memorabilia; most of which you couldn’t name if you were asked to. It was basically the focal point of the tent he called his block, and sprawled across most of his block to the point where nearly the whole floor was covered. It had made your claws twitch with the desire to clean up while reprimanding him. _That_ was his sleeping pile? You have to assume so, given no other possibility to consider, since he had no recuperacoon and that was the only pile in the block that he _could_ be referring to. Holy shit you. You are stupidly pale for this idiot.

You look through your sylladex briefly before accessing the card that holds your mediculler kit, letting it fall in front of you.

You rummage through it, muttering half to yourself as you pull out what you need, “They aren’t bad injuries, some basic cleaning and a few medical wraps should do the job well enough.”

You look up at him after you’ve gathered everything, smirking and saying, “If you were here I might offer to let you fix me up, but then again you’d probably just fumble over how you don’t know how to fix wounds.”

Gamzee’s auricular fins are nearly fucking glowing with how purple they are right now, and he shakes himself slightly before managing to stumble out, “F-Fix your bleeding, smart ass.”

You hesitate and can’t help yourself, hoping your joke reads as such, “Giving orders now?”

Gamzee snaps his fangs at you, harmless and non-threatening in a way you didn’t know could be _done_ , before muttering, “Motherfucker.”

You laugh quietly, muttering, “Sorry, I had to.”

You treat your injuries carefully, glancing up at Gamzee to see him staring at you, auricular shells and fins both purple as all hell, his gander bulbs drooping half-shut as he makes a quiet humming-purr that you can barely hear through the husktop. The purr sends that same tingling across your skin, and you finally understand what the fuck is causing it. Auditorily soothing murmur reflex. It’s thought that sometimes, when a troll uses the right quiet tone, that it will cause another troll to calm down. The basic theory being that it is an instinctual reaction for a troll.

You had thought auditorily soothing murmur reflex was bogus because it never did anything for you when you saw it in porno videos or whatever, but now, intentionally or not, the quiet hushed tones Gamzee’s been using were causing you to calm down. It’s strange as hell, and you wonder how the fuck he’s doing it, if he even knows that he’s doing it, and you wonder if you’re capable of doing it as well. The thought of only using your voice to soothe him causes you to get even more flushed then you were before, and you look back at your task. It doesn’t take long; a little disinfectant, some antibiotic ointment, a few securely wrapped bandages; and you’re done.

You stare down at your bandaged prongs, and after a moment of silence, Gamzee quietly asks, “Now mind telling a motherfucker what you done did as to cause them wounds on at yourself?”

“I, uh, punched my door a lot,” you mutter, feeling stupid and embarrassed. “After kicking it open. I was pissed and not thinking, basically.”

You look up to see Gamzee pout before he says, “Then why ain’t you got to getting a hold on of me? I woulda calmed your shit so as you didn’t do no harm at yourself.”

“I just told you I wasn’t _thinking_ ,” you say with a frown.

Gamzee continues to pout at you as he says, “Then what all about your tiredness? You haven’t went and all told me as anything is going wrong like with your sleeping. Ain’t you been getting at to sleep well?”

You glance away and shrug, “I also said that shitty sleeping wasn’t unusual for me.”

You look back to see Gamzee frowning as he says, “Karkat, I can’t help you if you don’t motherfucking let me. I ain’t ‘bout to force you, but damn, you should at least give me a chance to support you.”

You squirm and mutter, “It’s not like I’m having near constant daymares like when I was on the planet while those clowns were fucking about, and it’s not like I’ve been not sleeping entirely. I’ve just been staying up late, which is beyond fucking normal for me, seriously I have had a shit sleeping schedule since I was like five, maybe even younger than that. I had every intention to contact you before everything started to fuck up and I got swept up in all the torrid hoofbeastmanure I deal with on a nightly basis. Part of the reason I’m even in here right now is because I got so pissed that I just stormed the fuck away. So, I wasn’t thinking clearly even _before_ I got near my block.”

“That’s all to part of my point,” Gamzee says, “Why ain’t you told at me about how you were staying up late? Might be motherfucking normal as far as you’re concerned, but that shit does to be sounding unhealthy and worrying to me. Why ain’t you done hit me up before you got so snarled in your rage as to be not thinking? I am all willing and able as to help you getting to calm down, so as you ain’t hurt yourself in what first place. I may not all have a fuck ton as I’m able to do for you, especially seeing as we got hours of space between us, but I can’t do _nothing_ if you ain’t to letting me know what all is going on with yourself.”

You hesitate, looking off to the side and running a prong into your hair as you hiss out, “I had three mountain’s worth of work to do and I had to get things done since no one else is competent enough to do it. I got busy and when I get busy I stay up late trying to finish all the shit everyone else doesn’t want to do. I’m, I’m so fucking used to my shitty ass routine of stress and anger and sleeplessness that I have adapted to it. To a point where if no one else is bothering or harassing me to do their jobs, I still end up giving myself extra tasks to do because I feel fucking useless when I’m sitting still. What I’m _not_ used to, is being able to reach out and, let all of that go? I’m still not used to the idea that, holy shit, someone might actually _want_ to listen to me. I –”

You stop talking, after realizing that all you’re doing is making worthless excuses, but there’s no justifying it. Even if all you’re saying is true and what you were thinking at the time, it doesn’t change the fact that you failed to let him help you when you very well could have.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, shrinking in on yourself a little bit as your pan berates you for neglecting to let your moirail calm you down when you needed him to, making you feel like you don’t fucking deserve him.

“If you’re all to apologizing at about hurting yourself, then it’s done forgiven,” Gamzee’s voice says smoothly. “Anything else ain’t a thing as needs to be apologized about.”

You look at him, flat out saying, “It doesn’t work like that.”

Gamzee blinks, “Huh?”

“You,” you gesture towards him with your prong and say, “You can’t just forgive me so fucking easily. I screwed up, I should have let you help, I regret failing you, and you should be at least upset if not _mad_ that it came to this fucking point. You should at least fucking reprimand me or something, what the fuck!”

Gamzee hums, gander bulbs closed and nodding his nugbone as he seems to think about what you said, and after a moment he smiles and says, “Well, I just did forgive at you my bro. Ain’t bout to take that back when I meant it full and honest. I could already be to tell as you felt all guilty on about it. And what all could I be to reprimand you on about? Doing your job? Fuck that noise, I know how it can be, once you get all set to doing something, it be as like nothing else exists or matters until your task is to be done. Getting aggrieved? I know you be hot-tempered, but your anger only gets serious when it’s justified, so I know you probably had good reason for your ire. Just as I’m sure the motherfuckers whom got at your aggravation so hard as to cause you to stomp off surely deserved whatever wrathful spit you undoubtedly spat at them. Forgetting? I forget shit too, so that’d be to major hypocritical, especially seeing as I do what forgetting much more frequent. I can’t be to see no reason as to get no serious scolding on towards you.”

Gamzee pauses before adding on, “I’m also sure you done that at yourself enough already before I could get to doing at it, so.”

The prickle of embarrassment across your face is stupid, quite frankly, even if he did correctly guess that you were, _are_ , angrily scolding yourself for messing up.

After a moment, you finally manage to grumble out, “You have a right to be hypocritical. So what if you forget things, everyone does. I would tell you how many things I’ve forgotten if it would make you feel better, but I can’t because I’ve obviously forgotten them.”

Gamzee blinks a couple times before he starts laughing loudly, wrapping his arms around his stomach and curling in on himself as he laughs and laughs and laughs. Okay, what the fuck did you say that was so funny?

After a long while of laughing, Gamzee looks at you with a wide grin and asks, “Then all by that logic, ain’t should no one be bothered by the shit they forget? All to being including yourself?”

You groan loudly before sharply saying, “I should still make sure to talk to you more often! How many fucking times have you been the one to contact me first, how many fucking times have I not goddamn noticed until hours later? You can’t tell me those things don’t bother you, it would bother any fucking one, quadrant or not!”

Gamzee shrugs, “I ain’t minding in the motherfucking least my brother. Like I all done told you, I got patience in near endless supply, so don’t even get to be worrying on about that. Whenever you to be needing me, I’d get to always reply happily, so it ain’t like I’m saying as to not up and hit me up whenever you get the whim to do at so. However, if you ain’t catch the whimsy and I hit at you first, don’t feel as like you being forced to reply immediately if you are too busy.”

“Gamzee, what the fuck, that is not how shit stays balanced,” you mutter, very fucking concerned about how he seems to accept, no _expect_ that double-standard. You can talk to him whenever and he’ll always immediately answer, but he doesn’t think you should do the same? Fuck that noise straight up the unhealthy relationship it would make. “I am as dedicated to this relationship as you are, and I don’t want you to think that I’m not.”

“My brother I know that you all care, I ain’t trying to be saying as you ain’t devoted to me,” Gamzee says. “I just all am trying to say as I don’t be to minding waiting.”

“I don’t want to make you wait,” you shout, wanting him to understand, “I want you to know that I care about you. I want you to know I think about you. I want you to know that I fucking _miss_ you. I need to make better efforts because that’s what you deserve! You deserve someone who fucking showers you in affection and pity, and –”

You choke up for a minute, because in your core, you know that’s not fucking _you_ , you aren’t the troll who can openly and unabashedly pity him, you aren’t someone who shows your affection easily. You’re a piece of shit who yells and growls and insults others to cover up your own insecurities, and at best, when you act romantically, it is subtle and private. Even then, it’s to the point where others have usually not even been able to tell that you felt romantically for them.

“And I want to be that troll for you,” you finally finish, trying not to start leaking dismay fluid as your voice cracks.

“Karkat,” Gamzee says softly, and you notice that his auricular fin is faintly purple, but he stops, talk blaster open. After a pause, he swallows and says quietly, “You _are_ that troll.”

You shake your nugbone, trying to summon the words to tell him that he’s wrong, that he doesn’t understand, that you’re not worth it. “My brother, you just all said all that shit, went and definitively shouted your pity of me out. What motherfucking more could I be to ask for?”

You don’t have the strength or words to tell him how he should just fucking dump you and move on because that would be better for him, so you selfishly just let it go with a mutter of, “For me to get a hold of you more often. And, a whole hell of a lot more than that too, actually. Be fucking selfish, I can handle it.”

Gamzee laughs and says, “My brother, if you all want to be trying to contact me more frequent, I ain’t bound to be strafing on you over about it.”

You huff and drop it for now, ignoring your own mental beatings in favor of what Gamzee is telling you. He’s your moirail after all, you should listen to him. He might, for some fucking reason, believe that it’s okay for him to wait – again, fuck that noise. However, he is clearly not _against_ you trying to make sure he doesn’t wait, so that just makes you determined to live up to your _own_ expectations since he won’t fucking speak _his_ expectations.


	9. Chapter 9

“Speaking over each other to the point where not a single intelligible sentence is understood benefits no one! This achieves us nothing if the net gain is the same as if we hadn’t spoken at all! So, either gather yourselves in some counterfeit facsimile of order and control, or shut the fuck up and get the _fuck_ out of my way,” you holler over everyone else gathered around you, making them finally all shut up. It’s finally nearing the end of the dim season and everyone continues to be their usual annoying selves, constantly stopping you from getting anything worthwhile done. But now they also send their fucking underlings to tell you personally instead of sending you messages, how fucking wonderful!

You got Sollux to help you so now you can always hear your phone when it’s in your sylladex, but that seems to have only increased you level of frustration and the amount of work others put on you. The embarrassing thing is, even if everyone else is being even more of a nuisance because of it, you now never miss a single message from Gamzee. You’ve been making sure to be the first to contact Gamzee, as often as possible, even if it’s just to send him dumb shit and ask if he’s doing okay. He has his own job to do after all, so he can’t always reply to you immediately, but as soon as he sees your messages he always seems so happy to reply, no matter what time it is or how tired he is. It’s pitifully adorable and. It’s fucking worth it. All the other shit is worth talking to him, so you’ll fucking deal with it.

“I do not actually need you lot to remind me of all the complications we’re experiencing, I am beyond well goddamn aware of them, so if you could just _shut up_ for a change and let me fucking do my _job_ without these pointless wastes of time,” you snarl at them all with your teeth bared, “that would be a welcome change as I could actually start fucking working on some solutions finally! Either that or all of you can organize in an orderly fashion for _once in your damned spans_ , so that I might be able to accomplish something out of this clusterfuck!”

“But sir Martinet,” someone speaks up and you glare at the troll. You don’t recognize them, but you recognize their armor as what the archeradicators wear. One of Zahhak’s underlings then, fucking wonderful. “Armourer Blackeye said that he requires an _immediate_ response –”

“Then tell him that if you don’t allow me the time necessary to find a _solution_ to the bulge-fucked _problem_ , then I can’t motherfucking _fix it_ ,” you spit out, throwing out your arm in an angry gesture. “So, I have no time to listen to your meaningless and unhelpful complaints, I have work to get done because _someone_ has to act like a responsible adult here! In fact, all of you, tell your generals that if the mucus-coated wigglers would quit complaining like little _spoiled shits_ , and bothered to use even a _fraction_ of the pan that they were hatched with, then maybe any of this could manage to be marginally useful! But no, that's too fucking much to ask for, apparently, because here you all are! Still preventing me from fixing the very setbacks you all are simultaneously creating and complaining about!”

You pause and look around as you hiss, “You lot don't give a damn about responsibility or leadership, you just don't want to have to deal with anything yourself, so you hand it off to the only _dumbass_ who's stupid enough to think that being a leader involves any kind of cooperation among their fellow peers! The dumbass is me, and you all should be thankful that at least _one of us_ , is willing to slew through all the piled up putrid vomit in order to keep some semblance of an actual functioning military force. It is, however, quite apparent that you all obviously don’t want to listen to reason, and that this is the only thing you can do, so go the fuck ahead and get to your petty little points! It’s not like _I_ have anything planned or anywhere to goddamn go, right? Reiterate that to them word for shit-stained word, understood?”

Some of them salute and answer, “yes Martinet,” and you’d bet that all of them are archeradicators. Pretentious highblood fucks.

“Martinet,” someone else calls out.

“Dear sweet mother grub, by the almighty giver of fucks, _what is it now_ ,” you shout, growling loudly as you turn to see who is bothering you. You halt as you see that it’s Kintep followed by Gamzee and a couple other clowns. One of them you recognize, Forceful Sergeant, you think? Yeah, Forceful Sergeant, you met them during Shrila’s Q-and-A session or whatever it was called. The other you don’t know at all, they have medium length hair that curls at the ends, and makeup that has this rust shade you are _definitely_ not going to ask any questions about. Creepy blood clowns.

Kintep yawns before mumbling, “Grand whatev’ and two mo’.”

Gamzee seems to have an eyebrow raised at you, the Forceful Sergeant is chuckling quietly while the other smirks. What the fuck is so funny, you will make sure you never find out. Again, creepy blood clowns. You run a prong over your face, still growling quietly as you say, “Right. Come on, let’s get going.”

You turn towards the hallway where you need to go, Kintep chiming in, “Me too?”

You look back at her, making a face and snarling, “Kintep, I’m about to strangle you with my sickle. You know I wasn’t talking to you.”

She scoffs and mutters, “Not befo’ I shove a shoe in ya talk blasta, ya bulge.”

You turn away from her and walk towards hallway ten, saying loud enough for her to hear, “Ignore that slothful fuckface.”

She snickers and yells back, “Yer jus’ jealous that my lusus is chill as fuck.”

You groan and roll your gander bulbs, ignoring her as you walk purposefully. When you get further away from the hubbub of the main training area, you glance back at the clowns who are following you, Gamzee close to you and the others trailing behind him silently, “So I assume Grand Pulpiteer told you the reason you’re here?”

Forceful Sergeant scoffs and grins, “Yeah, our family all went and surprised you by cocooning early?”

You look forward and say, “Yeah. Gaxxic and Iunond must have entered their cocoons sometime in the day. The fun part came once Adamel woke up and started freaking out. Which is how I came to find out.”

“You all said as you were worried on of him blind raging, right,” you recognize Gamzee’s voice as the one asking. “What all did occur that made you be to think that he might get blind raging?”

“Besides the fact that the two trolls closest to him are now in cocoons and his entire personality has shifted,” you rhetorically ask, looking back to see Gamzee wince slightly.

After a slight pause, you go on, “Despite his personality changing so suddenly, he seems able to hold conversations online and in person, and to my knowledge has not used any mindfuck powers. I was talking to him earlier and letting him know you all were coming, in fact. However, during the conversation, he never once moved or looked away from their cocoons.”

Gamzee hisses under his breath, “Motherfuck.”

“Don’t cast worry on it.” You look to see that it’s Forceful Sergeant who says, “I have enough familiarity with stopping blind rages for all of us here.”

The unfamiliar clown smirks and says, “Well you’re the oldest of us, so that only makes sense!”

Forceful Sergeant whacks the back of the other’s nugbone, but you can tell it was a fairly light hit, and Forceful Sergeant mutters, “Motherfucker, I’ll make you run drills like back when I trained you. Powerful Sentinel or not, you’re still my fucking pupil. Always will be.”

Okay, guess that means the other clown’s title is Powerful Sentinel? Fucking hell, why do Highbloods always have to have such long titles? You continue down hall ten for a while until you get to Adamel, Iunond, and Gaxxic’s block.

You knock on the door before calling out, “Adamel, It’s Martinet. I’m here with Grand Pulpiteer and two other members of your family. We’re coming in.”

After a pause, you hear a quiet, “okay,” from Adamel and you open the door. Just like you expected, Adamel has not budged from his spot in front of the two featureless cocoons. You can’t tell which one has Gaxxic and which one has Iunond, and you doubt even Adamel can tell. The clowns all seem to be frozen by the door for a second, before Forceful Sergeant walks forward slowly.

You look at Gamzee and Powerful Sentinel, seeing Powerful Sentinel suddenly elbow Gamzee’s side, which makes him wheeze and mutter quietly, “The fuck my sister?”

Powerful Sentinel goes by female pronouns apparently. She’s wearing a dress and looks feminine, but you’ve been trying to not presume anymore. Gamzee elbows her back, not as roughly, as she snickers quietly. Is this, a normal interaction? Is this how the faithful treat each other? You suddenly don’t understand anything. For all Gamzee has said you and your threshecutioners act similar to how he knows his family acts, you can’t imagine your threshecutioners doing this. Unless they were flirting. Otherwise it would turn into a fight.

“Well, I should leave you clowns to this,” you say, waving your prong around the block vaguely. Gamzee stops messing around with Powerful Sentinel and looks at you as you ask, “I assume you have it handled?”

“What,” he says, “I mean yeah, we all do got this to be all managed. But what for you got to be rushing away so soon?”

You frown and say, “I have to continue doing my job. This was just one thing on my extensive list of infinitesimal things that I have to do, because no one else is competent enough to get their own nugbones out of their nooks, let alone do anything else that even remotely resembles some form of labor.”

Gamzee blinks at you and Powerful Sentinel mutters, “Damn, that is some straight-up cold ass rejection.”

“I, what,” you stammer before shouting, face burning suddenly at the accusation, “ _I am not rejecting him_!”

“Oh fuck, that’s a bright red.” Powerful Sentinel pauses before shaking her nugbone and muttering almost to herself, “Like it’s all in your gander bulbs, yeah, but motherfuck if it ain’t weird as hell to see on your face.”

“Fuck, you,” you hiss out sharply, a low growl in your squeal pipette.

Gamzee glares and elbows Powerful Sentinel in the side more forcefully, muttering quietly, “Lay off him. If he says he got work to do, he got motherfucking work to do. This place ain’t like church or family, if he ain’t keeping it running it’s like to fall apart at the seams.”

Before any of you can say more, Forceful Sergeant walks over, an arm looped over Adamel’s shoulders as they say, “Okay, so here is what we all need to do. Sister Primra and I need to both carry them cocoons, and brother Gamzee, you ought to be guiding Adamel. Our younger brother is slight more on the level now, but we still should be cautious, you feel me? So, since we can’t really use our bloodborne powers without terrifying the faithless here, we need help with doors and keeping others away from us. Think you could help, little red mutant?”

You snarl lowly before you respond, “Yeah, but fuck off with the little shit, you’re the ones who’re outrageously large. Even the Condesce wasn’t the same size as you clowns, so don’t try that ‘highbloods are always huge’ bullshit on me.”

Forceful Sergeant scoffs and smirks, “Oh, that so? You know the previous Empress’s size all personal do you now?”

You don’t flinch or pause before retorting sharply, “And what if I fucking do?”

Forceful Sergeant blinks in surprise before laughing loudly, gently nudging Adamel towards Gamzee and saying, “Well, your moirail is resolved, I’ll give him that my brother.”

Gamzee carefully grabs Adamel’s shoulders, Forceful Sergeant rubbing their fisted prong into his nugbone a little roughly as they add on, “He’ll need that when it comes to you.”

Gamzee huffs and his voice has a low growl as he mutters, not seeming actually angry but maybe flustered, “Fuck off, I done been teased by you motherfuckers enough already while at church. No need to do it in front of him too, damn, let me keep _some_ of my fucking pride, yeah?”

Forceful Sergeant shrugs with a laugh while you still wonder how normal this interaction is for clowns. Seriously. You would like an explanation. They make a gesture towards Powerful Sentinel before they both go walk to grab the cocoons. Gamzee puts an arm over Adamel’s shoulder, who is still not responding or reacting to anything around him. This is ‘more level’? He looks like he’s dead and still standing. Fucking shit.

After a short while, Forceful Sergeant and Powerful Sentinel walk over to you both, seemingly effortlessly carrying the cocoons. Bullshit highblood strength. You open the door, letting them all walk past you before you catch back up to walk in front of them, asking, “Do you remember which docking bay you used?”

“We brought Painter’s Choice,” Gamzee offers.

You sigh and access your phone from your sylladex, grabbing it before sending your question out to everyone on the training compound. The response is fairly quick, and you say, “Docking bay eleven, huh? That’s just down the hall next to us.”

When you leave the hall you’re in, the crowd from before rushes over and you declare, “I have other concerns to deal with, you all will have to wait until a later time. Leave the central training area, that is an order.”

They hesitate before saluting and walking away. Well, at least when all’s said and done, they still follow your orders. God, you really don’t want to go back to dealing with them though.

You march forward, going down hall eleven with the clowns following you silently. Gamzee’s walking slightly further behind you compared to before, and you really try to believe that it’s because of Adamel and not something you did or said as you remember the other clown his age saying that you were rejecting him. Is that what it looked like? Is that what Gamzee thought you were doing? Fuck, let’s not examine how terrible you are at everything tonight, please thanks bye.

When you make it to the door that leads to the docking bay, you press the communication button and say, “This is Martinet, making sure that the docking bay is safe.”

“The port is sealed Martinet,” comes the response, sounding slightly staticky through the speaker.

You open the door, the clowns walking past you and going to their ship. You follow slightly, not certain if you’re allowed to go in. You stare at the painted mural on the ship, realizing that the ‘paint’ is probably blood, and wondering how in the holy fuck they managed to get it to stay on, but not really wanting to know at the same time.

Gamzee bounds out of the ship after a minute or two, smiling at you as he says, “Aight, we got them all set up and will be to bring them to church safe.”

You look at him for a minute, studying the pattern of the makeup he wears. You wonder if it means anything, if different faces are important. You would think so, seeing as each clown has a different pattern.

_“As to private and public, being weak in front of others; all that don’t matter a motherfuck to me in truth, so long as you be at careful when touching my makeup.”_

You smile, thinking about how it’s been a while since you’ve seen him in person, and how it would be a shame if you didn’t spend some time with him. Plus, fuck those assholes uselessly bogging you down with complaints and no solutions.

So instead of hearing all that putrid noise, you decide to say to Gamzee, “You know, I just realized that I have not yet shoosh papped you.”

Gamzee’s gander bulbs widen a bit and you get that feeling that he’s blushing, even if you can’t see his auricular fins right now. Well. Maybe you should fix that. You step forward and slowly reach towards him, brushing his hair behind his auricular shells carefully, feeling your own face getting hot as you see that his fins are purple.

You swallow as you try to see if you can get your voice to do that auditory soothing thing, talking barely above a whisper as you say, “You told me that I need to be careful about your makeup, so I was thinking. Maybe I should practice that? So I don’t mess it up when you do need me to soothe you.”

Gamzee openly gapes, auricular shells purple now as well, gander bulbs wide. You, literally speaking, have no idea what he’s thinking, or if your attempt to use auditory soothing worked. After a second of no response, you ask, “Do you want to do that?”

Gamzee blinks, glancing away from you a few times before finally saying, “I think I’d be to liking that a lot.”

You hesitate and before you can say anything else, one of his clowns calls out, “Hey my brother, you coming or what?”

Gamzee seems to focus and start turning to reply, but, half in an attempt to be publicly affectionate, you grab his prong and look at who just called him, seeing Powerful Sentinel as you say, “Actually no, sorry. I’m going to be taking this pitiful clown with me. You won’t get him back until at least tomorrow night.”

Powerful Sentinel and Gamzee both stand still, and you try to impersonate an iron wall. You’re a badass, toughest troll around, nothing’s getting through here, motherfucker. A loud rattling purr sounds next to you and you startle slightly, looking back to Gamzee to see him smiling softly at you, his gander bulbs half-closed and fond.

And there goes your impersonation of an iron wall. Maybe brick would be a better comparison as your face goes bright fucking red, betraying yourself and everything you were trying to do. Then you hear someone, you assume Powerful Sentinel, start laughing. Fuck. Your. Life.

You do your best to not look away from Gamzee as Powerful Sentinel finally manages to gasp out between laughter, “Messiahs! Aight, damn. You’re both a fucking riot, that’s certain. See you later my brother, would wish you peace but it ain’t seeming like I need to!”

“Yeah,” Gamzee responds quietly, not even bothering to turn to look away from you.


	10. Chapter 10

Gamzee nestles into the pile almost the instant he enters your block, purring loudly and totally unabashed. Your claws prick uncomfortably for a second, because you want to stab your past self for his cowardice. Holding his prong, really? Fucking _really_? That’s what you decided to do? Fucking congratulations, you have now successfully held your moirail’s fucking prong! For the second fucking time, oh wow. So scandalous, you bet that singular random clown you’ll probably never see again is blushing like _fuck_ right now. After all, she saw you two _holding prongs_ , holy shit! That is so pale that it can’t even be shown in _pornos_ you are just.

“Got some thing as is floating in your think pan,” Gamzee’s voice asks, drawing you out of your mental tirade at yourself.

You frown and walk over to the pile. God though, that was such a weak attempt at public affection. You’re embarrassed at yourself for even trying, and especially for failing so fucking hard. You were so nervous, and so hyped, and so fucking _ready_ to do something, show your affection somehow. That you chose the thing that was closest and just did that, not really thinking ahead of time about how fucking stupid it was. His prong, his goddamn prong. Good job Vantas. A-plus moirail of the sweep here, you held his fucking prong. You deserve an award. Fuck.

You stop in front of your pile, remember the reason you asked him to stay, and honestly mutter, “I don’t know where to start.”

Gamzee smirks and says, “Could all start by getting in this here pile with me.”

You huff and fall into the pile beside him, trying to appear natural or casual like him, but you wince as sharp corners of your books dig into you, and a dislodged pillow falls on top of your face. Gamzee chuckles softly, and you try your best to swallow the rise of shame and bitterness as he moves the pillow off your face. You stare at his easy-going smile and wonder just how the fuck he manages to be so, so unconcerned, about all this. Your pump biscuit is pounding in your hear ducts, your whole thorax aching and clenching up with pity. Even though you can still see the way his auricular fins are purple, he is laidback where you, you just _aren’t_.

You take a deep breath and sigh, muttering, “I don’t fucking get how you aren’t nervous as shit about this. I know I am.”

Gamzee laughs sharply, the purple on his fins going darker as he says, “My bro, I _am_ being nervous as shit on about this. Like, in ways as I ain’t even total sure I can be expressing, ‘cause like I trust the shit outta you, but this shit is really fucking. Intimidating, almost.”

You shrink a bit and grumble out, “Well you could’ve fooled me, with how fucking carefree you look right now. Meanwhile I’m pretty sure I could swallow my fucking pump biscuit if I tried hard enough. Either that or die of mental anguish.”

Gamzee frowns and mutters, “Mental anguish?”

Fuck.

“It’s,” you glance away, “it’s nothing really. Just, shit. Feeling embarrassed. And. Stupid. About my shitty attempt to be publicly affectionate. Nothing all that important, and we should move on to other things, because talking about it is a waste of time –”

“I appreciated it,” Gamzee says quietly. You look at him, confused by what he means, and he smiles as he says, “Enjoyed the fuck outta all what you said.”

“What I,” you stop once you realize that you two are talking about different things, then clarify, “No, I meant the prong holding thing. That was just.”

Your face goes hot as you look away again, muttering, “Fucking ridiculous. I mean really, that’s the fucking best I could do? It’s _mortifying_. It’s like I’m a fucking grub who can’t goddamn, who just –”

A soft kiss on your forehead makes you halt, looking up to see Gamzee looking at you like you’re the most pitiful troll in existence and. “Like that,” you say, “That was, unequivocally romantic and, and just. Somehow natural. How do you do that? I get all, ugh, bogged down in my pan.”

You look away, ranting a bit, “It’s embarrassing, what if he doesn’t like it, what if others think he’s weak because of it, what if others think _I’m_ weak because of it, will someone say something, I don’t want to have to explain or defend myself, can’t I just fucking be happy without them getting goddamn suspicious or fucking concerned, what if I fuck up, what if –”

You cut yourself off with a sigh as you close your gander bulbs, muttering, “I don’t understand how you can _say_ that you’re nervous or whatever, but still actively _do_ things like that. I’d talk myself out of it almost before I finished thinking about it. It’s like every single time I want to do something sappy, I have to actively fight my pan the whole fucking time, only for what? Me to hold your goddamn prong. Fucking, great accomplishment Karkat, well done, you utter fuck up.”

Prongs cup your cheeks and you open your gander bulbs as Gamzee lifts your face up to look at him, voice firm yet placating, “Shoosh on that motherfucking untruthful noise right now. Don’t speak on my moirail as if he ain’t the sweetest treasure as I got to hold onto.”

You open your talk blaster, but Gamzee strokes your face rhythmically, your body naturally easing due to the repetitive motion as he says, “None of it. I ain’t to be hearing no more of that shit. You ain’t a failure or a fuck up. You’re just motherfucking fine. Every motherfucker has all a natural pace as they go about shit, romantic or not, and it ain’t no motherfuckin failing to take your goddamn time if you need to. I ain’t at all motherfucking rushing you. Do what all comes natural my brother.”

You frown and grumble, “What comes naturally for me is being an over aggressive shit-stain.”

Gamzee rolls his gander bulbs exaggeratedly, papping you and making you feel settled despite your slowly diminishing misgivings about your shit attempt at public affection. “What I meant, you sarcastic ass motherfucker,” Gamzee says, “is to not be pushing yourself to do more than where all your comfort lays. Like, all them things you said. About wanting for to pap me and how all you’d be taking me for the night. Was that a hard-fought battle to be saying?”

“No,” you reply mutedly, pouting slightly.

Gamzee grins at you and says, “That was romantic as fuck too, you know. Actions ain’t all as can show intent my brother. The reason as that speaking was easy, is ‘cause that all is what you wanted to do, what all was natural for you to do. You trying at public affection was something you pushed yourself to do, out of your own comfort, and what you ended up doing was the one thing as you got familiarity and comfort with.”

You sigh, not wanting to consider that he might be right, but he strokes your face some more and fuck it. He’s your moirail, you can let him be right without too much of a fight every now and again. You grunt before taking a deep breath, eventually murmuring, “Seriously though, I have no idea where to start as far as making sure I don’t mess up your gross clown visage.”

“Ain’t got no need to rush into that,” Gamzee speaks softly as a low humming-purr sounds from deep in his thorax, both causing those tingles down your spine as he continues to stroke and pap your face, and holy shit you’re going to melt into an incoherently sleepy mess at this rate.

You reach out and place your prong over one of Gamzee’s, looking at him as you say to him, “I don’t think I’m rushing. I want to do this, and I can see no reason to procrastinate. But if you need more time or something, you can tell me.”

Gamzee’s auricular fins go purple as he mutters, “Nah, I, nah my brother. I be all, um.”

He looks away from you, lowering his prongs from your face and hesitating before he manages to quietly say, “Expectant? On of about, uh, you being to touch on my face with them prongs of yours. But if you ain’t ready, I ain’t gonna push or nothin.”

You frown, once again noticing how he won’t say what he wants directly. You might just be the worst moirail in existence, and you don’t need any other proof then the fact that you _still_ haven’t tried to ask Gamzee about how he avoids speaking about what he wants freely. It’s something you’ve been forgetting and procrastinating, making excuses and ignoring the topic despite how much it is upsets you, mostly in cowardice of talking about such an inevitably complex problem so soon into your relationship, if you’re being totally honest here.

You hesitate before saying, “I’m only uncertain because I don’t know how to do this without messing up your makeup, and I’m kind of afraid of fucking up. But, there’s no tangible way to fix that until I start trying.”

“Then try if you feel as you wanna,” Gamzee says quietly. Gamzee won’t look at you, his auricular shells and fins both purple. It’s almost as if he’s, is he being fucking shy for once? If so, of course he’d be shy about some weird religious shit you don’t understand worth fuck-all.

“What do you want me to do,” you ask him, mostly just to see if he avoids telling you.

He turns his nugbone even further away for a second, then looks back at you as he says, “Ain’t ‘bout to make you do nothing as you don’t want all to do yourself, that be for certain.”

That doesn’t answer your question. In fact, if you think about it, that could be a really confusing way of saying ‘do whatever you want’, or something in the same vein of thought, at least. Like he is willing to give up things he wants, for what reason, you can’t quite guess.

To respect your boundaries or to appease your requests? Out of awkwardness or out of ignorance? Because he misunderstands what _you_ want or because he expects he _has_ to? To soothe you or to keep you? Compromise or submission?

No matter what his thought process is on it, it’s unhealthy as fuck for him not to tell you what he wants or needs, and _you_ _need_ to talk to him about it, for his own sake and for yours. This has gone on far too long already.

While you try to think of ways to talk to Gamzee about his tendency to not say what he wants, you swallow around a sudden lump in your squeal pipette before lifting your prong. Gamzee stares at it, gander bulbs wide with nerves and possibly excitement? Mostly nerves though, shit he basically looks scared. Considering that neither of you know how to makes sure his makeup stays pristine other than jumping right into it and hoping for the best, and his makeup is apparently so important to him that it was the _only_ boundary he set as far as psychical affection, it’s kind of understandable that he’d fear the possibility that it might turn out for the worse. So instead of going straight for his face, you place your prong on his shoulder and start rubbing the muscle there carefully, smiling softly at him and purring quietly to try to get him to relax some.

Gamzee relaxes a good portion straight away, shoulders going slack and gander bulbs going back to their normal size as he exhales heavily through his cartilaginous nub. You reach your other prong to get his other shoulder, muttering, “I’m pretty sure I suck at this.”

Gamzee laughs softly, saying, “Feels nice to me.”

You scoff slightly, watching him slowly unwind. Once it seems like the panicked air about him goes away, you’re left with a nervous and hopeful clown smiling at you as you try to remember your own fucking calm, and that’s when you move one of your prongs up from his shoulder and lightly place your fingertips against his cheek.

Gamzee goes still, and it feels, weird, is the first thing you notice. Not greasy or sticky like you expected, it’s actually pretty smooth?

You carefully stroke your fingertips against it, Gamzee exhaling shakily. You’re very worried, watching his face intently, and not _only_ because it’s near impossible _not to_ right now, since you need to make sure you’re not fucking up his makeup. Right now, he just seems to be watching you quietly, auricular fins tinted purple. Your pump biscuit is racing as you mutter, “Is that, um, am I, doing it right?”

Gamzee smiles while he purrs and says, “Feels motherfucking nice as shit, if that’s what you’re asking after my brother. Far as if my makeup be still in good condition, you be the one as can see it so.”

His shoulders go a little tense and his smile goes tighter. Your squeal pipette fucking _chirps_ without you telling it to, and you almost hear an odd tone to your voice as you whisper, “You still look like a murder clown, and I’m doing my best to keep it that way.”

Gamzee shivers minutely, relaxing once again and breathing evenly. Even though it’s smooth, you can feel that it’s also thick. You tap and rub your fingertips against his cheek carefully, trying to gain confidence in your actions. You continue to watch him closely, looking for any sign that he doesn’t like it or wants you to stop, but his gander bulbs droop half-shut as he breathes deeply and smiles softly, serene as fuck.

You swallow and speak up quietly, “Hey Gamzee.”

He hums sluggishly, and you hesitate, the prickle of awkwardness in your pan making a quiet wordless protest about it being too soon to talk about this difficult topic, but you manage to ignore it because _it doesn’t matter_ if it’s too soon. If you don’t try to help him, someone else might take advantage of him, and then it’ll be _your fault_ for leaving him weak.

“I, was wondering something, I want to ask you some questions, would you mind answering them as directly as possible,” you ask, trying to approach this as delicately as possible.

Gamzee’s talk blaster twists up in a little curious smile as he replies, “Go ahead, I’ll answer as I can.”

“They shouldn’t be challenging questions,” you say. After taking a breath to sort out your thought process, you ask, “If I wanted something, would you do it?”

Gamzee blinks, looking confused as he answers, “Doing that very thing right now. Otherwise, could depend on what it was to be, but I don’t particular see why not.”

Okay, that’s, a fair answer. That’s what you wanted to hear, that he was willing to tell you ‘no’. Still, you do notice that he basically said ‘yes’, even when he had no idea what it could be.

You nod and keep on carefully feeling his makeup as you ask, “So if it was something you didn’t want to do?”

“I,” Gamzee frowns and says, “wouldn’t do it?”

Right, okay, you’re not sure if the questioning tone was because he was confused by the question, or by his uncertainty of what he would do, but okay. “And you’d tell me you didn’t want to do it?”

“Of course,” he says, huffing out his cartilaginous nub softly. You’re relieved to hear that, honestly. So, maybe you were just reading into things? Fuck, no way to know until you ask.

“What if you wanted something,” you ask.

Gamzee blinks and responds, “Huh?”

You grit your teeth at the way your gut sinks, but no, don’t assume, “If you wanted something, do you think I would do it?”

“I mean,” Gamzee pauses, “Depends on what all it was, I guess? If it wasn’t reckless nor dangerous, I figure you might say yes.”

Okay, again, fair. But he didn’t sound as certain about it. Maybe because he didn’t want to presume? Maybe because he was just uncertain what you might say yes to?

“What if it was something I didn’t want to do,” you ask.

“I, would say sorry,” Gamzee mutters. That, okay you can understand that, and it was one of the most certain statements he’s said. So why does it make you feel so shitty?

Okay, time to pull out the final question, “If you wanted something, would you ask for it?”

Gamzee stares at you, then looks away, hesitates, looks back to you, mumbles, “I, I can speak and shit, so. I mean. I guess it might depend? Like, no point in asking a thing I know the answer to, right?”

Holy shit, fuck, oh god, breathe Vantas, _breathe_. You pause to ride out the gut reaction of freaking out, shouting or crying or whatever it would be that you ended up doing, instead just focusing on your fingers stroking his face for a minute or two. That was a whole hell of uncertain, from the sound of it. Uncertain, avoiding the question a bit, and suggesting that there’s _no point_ in saying what he wants, just because of what _you_ might say. That’s so fucked up.

You take a deep breath of air, then slowly exhale, looking at Gamzee as you ask, “How do you know the answer if you don’t ask?”

“Some shit is obvious,” Gamzee replies. “Like, uh, like how you would never want me to put paint on your face.”

You frown and ask, “Would you want to do that?”

“Messiahs no,” Gamzee says, seeming almost affronted by your question. “That shit is religious as fuck, not some play toy as to be used willy-nilly. Unless you become faithful, which my brother let me just stop to fully express as that ain’t a thing I ever will think to be happening, but unless you come onto faith you ain’t ever gonna have no holy face painted up on you. Least of motherfucking all by me. Minister I be, even as Grand is my main job now. I hold faith true, and faith says only the faithful wear holy faces.”

You bite down on the almost automatic ‘then why ask’, saying instead, “I wasn’t trying to offend you or anything by the way, it just confused me when you brought it up.”

Gamzee huffs and shakes his nugbone, saying, “Nah, I mostly brought it up to make an exaggerated point, but I done forgot as you don’t technical know the rules of faith.”

Gamzee pauses before saying, “If I was to use a more realistic example, I suppose it would all be that you won’t let me kill no motherfucker.”

He doesn’t sound angry about that, almost content even. You have to seriously stop and consider everything you might lose if you upset him too much by insisting this answer, your fingers still carefully tapping and stroking his face as he lies in complete serenity before you. But, at risk of fucking up, you point out, “I’m letting you kill those random fuckfaces.”

Gamzee looks up at you, gander bulbs wide as you go on, “Hell, I even convinced Feferi to allow it.”

Gamzee opens his talk blaster, closes it, then opens it again, “That’s, my brother it’s faith as gives me right and reason to kill them. Plus, you all said as you woulda killed them yourself either way.”

“True,” you allow, anxious as fucking hell, but he hasn’t pushed you away yet, and you’re doing this _for him_. He has to understand, he has to see why not saying what he wants is an issue, he _has t_ o. Even if it means he leaves you, you have to make him understand that his wants are goddamn important. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m letting you kill some trolls, which is something you said you didn’t need to ask, because you knew that I would supposedly say no.”

You pause, letting that sink in before saying, “So obviously, even supposedly obvious things, aren’t always so obvious. Therefore, I ask again, how do you know the answer, _if you don’t ask_?”

Gamzee hesitates before muttering, “Well, I suppose with heretics my assumption of your answer is of a different nature. I assume as you will respect my faith and you ain’t wronged me on that.”

You can almost feel the ‘yet’ that you are fairly certain he’s not saying, and it stings a little.

“Although I worry about fucking up sometimes, I do my best to respect you and your faith, so your assumptions aren’t necessarily incorrect,” you say while frowning. “I’m not trying to say that you assuming some things is wrong Gamzee.”

“Then what _are_ you aiming to getting at,” Gamzee asks, obviously frustrated, his fangs showing slightly in his aggravation. You hesitate before you lift your prong away from his face before gently tapping your fingers against his cheek. It’s a mock of a pap, but Gamzee blinks like you startled him, before squinting at you slightly with a huff and a pout. Holy shit, holy shit, how many ways could he be telling you to stop, how many ways he could be making you stop, but he’s _not_. Fuck, you hope that’s a good sign, you’re so nervous you think your pan might just have a fucking stroke. Still though, you drop your prong back to his shoulder after that, not wanting to divide your attention for now.

“What I’m trying to get at, is that it’s good for you to say what you want, regardless of what anyone else might say,” you say.

Gamzee frowns and you ask, “Just hear me out, okay?”

He doesn’t reply, which you have to assume means he’s going to listen, so you go on, “It seems to be that you avoid talking about what you want. Whenever I ask you what you want, you either respond vaguely or indirectly, and I can’t recall a single time where you have actually told me what you want when I asked. That fucking worries me, okay?”

“I just,” Gamzee mumbles, “ain’t sure what all even is a thing as normal moirails do.”

“This isn’t about ‘normal moirails’ because ‘normal’ isn’t anything but a fucking reason to feel like shit. This is about us figuring out what works for _us_ ,” you tell him. “I can’t meet your needs and balance you like I’m _supposed_ to if you don’t tell me what you want or need from me.”

Gamzee looks down and you quietly say, “I’m not sure why you do it, or if you even realize that you are doing it, and I won’t ask you to try to explain yourself. I just want you to try to say what you want, if you can. And I don’t mean specifically right now about anything in particular. Just like, in general, if that makes sense.”

Gamzee doesn’t respond for a while and you hesitate before telling him, “I can’t do anything about other trolls but, I can at least attempt to make it easier for you if you need. I can try to be more direct with asking what you want me to do, so you don’t even have to say anything but yes or no, if that might help.”

Gamzee looks up at you through his eyelashes and your pump biscuit launches into your squeal pipette, holy shit, he looks so pitiful like that. After a moment, Gamzee whispers, “I can try, if you all do think as it’s something I ought to. Can’t promise as I’ll be much good at it. But I trust at you, and if you say as this is shit as I gotta motherfucking work at, then I’ll try my best Karkat. But yeah, starting with you all giving me some shit I could directly say a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ at might make it easier at first.”

You sigh in relief and say, “Alright. Thank you. For answering and for trying.”

There’s a pause before Gamzee asks, “Could you all do something for me?”

“What is it,” you ask.

“Try to all stop thinking you’re some kind of failure,” Gamzee asks, grinning sheepishly. “Anytime you think at other wise, contact me so as I can right that deceitful noise in your pan, either that or just up and think of whatever shit I might’ve said, as has ever made you felt good at yourself.”

“I,” you look away, taking a moment to find your words before you say, “I’ll try. It, it won’t be easy. I’ve been thinking that way since. Whenever I found out my blood was a goddamn mutation. Everything in my past not only taught me that I am the epitome of a mistake, but also everything I’ve ever done or thought in the past is solid fucking proof of that.”

There’s a pause before Gamzee mutters, “Well. Shit in my past says wanting things ain’t no use. You can want and want and motherfucking need, but that don’t change what all is to be happening.”

You look to see Gamzee looking empty of emotion as he says, “Wanting has been to nothing but trouble and disappointment. Better to accept what’s offered and never dare to imagine at more.”

You laugh bitter and kind of scared to consider what happened to Gamzee, muttering, “Fuck, we both have so much shit to work through.”

Gamzee hugs you close to him and says, “Yeah but we ain’t got to do it alone at least.”

You hug him back tightly, “Yeah, there’s that at least.”


	11. Chapter 11

You wake up groggily, an unfamiliar ease causing you to feel much more content than usual, the odd feeling of being well rested causing you to look over to see Gamzee laying next to you, holding you as he still sleeps. You smile to yourself, enjoying the fact that he trusts you this much. Like, you’ve slept together before, but still, his peaceful face as he breathes deeply in his sleep is pitiful as hell. You want to protect this harmless sleeping troll, you would kill to keep him safe, and even when he’s awake and back to being not _quite_ as innocent, you still want to shield him from pain and keep him in control of himself. Plus, you don’t mind when he gets to keeping you from killing yourself with work, keeping you safe from yourself and treating you like you’re everything to him.

You are just _so_ fucking pale for him.

You blink to yourself as you realize that it’s not embarrassing to admit that, that thinking those sappy fucking things didn’t cause you to groan and berate yourself over dumb shit. Holy shit. Is this. Is your moirallegiance with Gamzee making you change for the better? Is he not just actively trying to make your life healthier, but also unintentionally making you have a more positive and healthy view of the world? Your face is burning, and you have no solid answer. Change like this takes time and fucking effort, while you might be serene and pleased right now, you could slip back to your usual shit at any moment. And the frustrating thing is that if that happened, it wouldn’t even particularly mean that you were wrong in thinking that you’re changing. There’s no strict definition of failure or success when it comes to this, and that is annoying. You know nothing in life is easy, but fuck do you wish it was simpler, maybe even more definitive.

Gamzee squeezes you tight for a second before shifting and pulling away, stretching and yawning for a minute before his gander bulbs open sluggishly.

He blinks sleepily, and you murmur, “Well good night, sleeping beauty.”

Gamzee glances over to you, then chuckles and smirks, “I’m a beauty now?”

You squint at him, “It’s a goddamn phrase, but yes, you are fucking attractive in the most pitiful ways. Though I can see the potential appeal for other quadrants as well, not like I’m interested.”

Gamzee snorts and rolls over on his side, facing you as he mutters, “If you do be saying so. I ain’t bound to question on how you get to seeing any such thing, let alone so early in the night.”

Gamzee yawns again and you frown. Does he not think he’s fucking attractive as hell? Fuck that. Hell, how does he have so many issues that take you forever to notice? Still, fuck that. He’s attractive and you are going to tell him how.

“Gamzee, you are, objectively speaking, one of the most attractive assholes I’ve ever met,” you say firmly.

Gamzee looks at you, then frowns, and you continue in no particular order as you demonstrate each point by counting them on your prongs, “You are tall, muscular, a frustratingly endearing enigma, you have fucking _magnificent_ horns, your smile is amazing, your laughter is goddamn adorable, your dedication is extraordinary, not to mention your patience, holy shitting fuck, you are powerful, you are smart, stubborn, and _yes_ , that is attractive in the right quadrant, the way you care for other trolls is remarkable, your personality is stunning and captivating and it is seriously way too easy to fall for you, in any fucking quadrant. You could probably get just about anyone you would want, and they’d be _lucky_ to have you. _I’m_ fucking lucky to have you.”

You huff at how Gamzee seems stunned, seriously, how does he not know how attractive he is. After a second, he brushes his hair behind one of his auricular shells, revealing a deep purple blush. Then he gently grabs one of your wrists, tugging it towards him just the slightest bit as he whispers softly, “Come here my brother.”

You frown but push yourself up slightly with your elbows, Gamzee’s prong easily releasing the hold he had on your wrist. You turn towards him on your side, but then he wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards him before rolling onto his back. You feel his lips press carefully against your cheek before he settles back down, reclining in your pile as you kind of just gape at him for a moment. You’re sitting on his lap, on top of him, and your think pan is reeling a bit, overwhelmed by how he’s being so vulnerable, and reminded of how _effortless_ it would be for him to pull you around how he liked, if he wanted.

It’s one of the first times this fact has occurred to you, ever since you met him. You’re not stupid, you knew he was strong, his blood caste is one of the strongest. You’ve seen him use that strength too; he ripped that jade’s nugbone off their posture pole, for fuck’s sake; you saw him lift and move that boulder that was impossible for you to even _budge_ ; and he easily lifted you onto his shoulder that one time. Yet he’s making himself defenseless, in a weak position under you.

Gamzee quietly asks, “Karkat?”

You blink a few times, then laugh slightly, smiling at him, “Sorry, I kind of zoned out.”

You feel heat inch across your face as you tell him, “That was another example of something you frequently do that’s attractive as hell. Your natural inclination to do romantic shit without even trying, and sometimes without even knowing it. And how you seem to always show your auricular fins to me now, like, that is flattering as fuck. You understand that, right?”

Gamzee shrugs and won’t look at you, and you reach out, cupping his cheek carefully and gently. You turn his face towards you and he seems to force out, “I ain’t saying you’re wrong, I know you’re all only saying that shit ‘cause you see it true and want me to as well, but I just motherfucking _can’t_.”

You stroke his face cautiously, able to tell that this is something he’s reluctant to talk about in detail, quietly saying, “That’s alright. I’ll drill it into your pan as slowly as I fucking need to, you pitiful wreck of a troll.”

Gamzee laughs sharply, and you lightly pap him, making him chuckle quietly before sniffing and turning into your prong with a weak smile.

“I just now realized,” you say quietly, “How much you have to be careful. With your strength. When it comes to me.”

Gamzee blinks before scowling and looking at you as he mutters, “Ain’t, ain’t that obvious? I don’t want to hurt you. Why for shouldn’t I keep in pan to be at careful with the one as I pity so pale and want unharmed safe?”

Hearing him say that makes the realization you’re having strike hive even fucking harder, and you press the heel of your prong against one of your gander bulbs, unable to stop smiling even as dismay fluid wells up and threatens to spill out, “I, fuck, maybe. Maybe I’m being stupid, but, but I just. This could be a mutually balanced relationship, and fuck, that’s kind of overwhelming, honestly? Sorry if I’m not making sense.”

Gamzee sits up slightly to hug you close, humming out of his squeal pipette as he says, “Nah, I get you. Ain’t being stupid at all. Feeling’s all being mutual too, just so you know. Got a motherfuck ton of gladness, all up and residing in my soul and husk, on the fact as you all do seem to be of the kind to be able to balance me, the way a good moirail should. These feelings all shared between us could all be the making of a motherfucking miracle straight from the Messiahs.”

You scoff slightly, hugging him back and muttering into his shoulder, “Yeah, sure, whatever you say, you religious clown freak.”

After a minute of just enjoying the comforting embrace, you pull away and murmur, “Thanks for putting up with my shit. I’m sorry about dumping that shit on you without any warning.”

Gamzee huffs out his cartilaginous nub and mutters, “The fuck you apologizing for? Being weak? Trusting me? Tell me what you think you need to be apologetic about, ‘cause I ain’t seeing it.”

You shrug and glance away, “Uh, I don’t know. I was being dumb and stupidly oversentimental over something obvious. Maybe that’s what I’m apologizing for? Hell, as if I even know, but still. Sorry.”

Gamzee hisses quietly and says, “Karkat, listen at me real close now.”

You look at him with a frown and Gamzee says, “Quit motherfucking apologizing for being weak. I know it takes effort and time for you to show and admit weakness, I appreciate the fuck out of the fact what you trust me with those vulnerabilities, and it means so much to me that you trust me as I trust you my brother. So quit fucking apologizing for caring and being weak!”

You open your talk blaster but Gamzee puts a finger in front of it saying, “And that shit about all putting up with you,” you close your talk blaster and wait for him to continue.

“My brother, no,” Gamzee says softly, cupping his other prong on your other cheek as he goes on quietly, “don’t fucking tell me you think at it in that manner, ‘cause if that’s so you’re goddamn lying at yourself. You anchor and hold me true to the world. You are good and sweet and kind at me. You motherfucking _balance_ _me out_ Karkat. Don’t belittle that shit ‘cause I know it can’t be easy to do. There ain’t a thing as would even begin to qualify as putting up with no shit. It don’t matter if you’re speaking on your temper or your insults or any other thing, _none_ of it be putting up with it, as if you be some burden at me. Motherfuck no, you’s pitiful as fuck, my brother. Couldn’t ever be to become no burden at me.”

You just stare at him, stunned, and Gamzee seems to hesitate before whispering out is a rush, “Want you. Want you mine and want you to want me. Just. Just want you, my brother. Your comfort and affection, all as you would give me I’ll gladly take. Knowing that you motherfucking _care_ is enough for me, but you give me more and I. I be beyond happy to receive, even if it does get to scaring me on occasion. Don’t ever be to doubt at the fact as I want you and you are the best thing as happened to me.”

Your pump biscuit aches, feeling like it’s being bent to the point of breaking, and you want to ask so many fucking questions right now. Why is he so willing to accept whatever comes his way? What the hell could have happened that was so bad, for him to be so desperate for any attention? It doesn’t quite fit with the personality you know – the proud, nervous, awkward, caring, playful asshole who won’t take anyone insulting his faith or family. But wait. Has he _ever_ really gotten angry or stubborn over anything outside of his faith or family?

Pity for him tears you up inside, leaving you feeling bleached as white as your lusus’s chitin. You swallow and with nothing better to say, you manage out a small, “Okay.”

You both stare at each other for another moment, hesitating as you try to push past your nervousness, finally deciding; fuck it, what’s the worst that can happen?

Without your control, your pan automatically starts offering up possibilities; he can reject you, dump you, find your failures despicable, see your need contemptable, take your weakness and hurt you, kill you, use your fears against you – you need to stop. Half of those don’t make any sense given the context, and even if they did, you fucking trust him. And he’s trusting you. _Balance_ , your pan whispers softly.

You gently stroke and pap his face, and Gamzee lies down, his purr getting louder as you lie down with him. Gamzee’s gander bulbs droop as you just caress him for a while, watching him so relaxed and pacified. It’s kind of thrilling, as well as terrifying, like staring down at Alternia as you left to become a threshecutioner. No, it’s more like when you became the general, or the leader of the Imperial Army, the thrilling terrifying power of having a significant influence over others. Dignifying and humbling with the responsibility and the trust put in you.

Gamzee is purring and calm as he lays underneath you, and eventually Gamzee hums contentedly before murmuring, “Speak at about yesternight at me, tell me why for you were getting all shouting at them motherfuckers, let me get the knowing on of why you had aggravation clogging up in your sponge.”

A quiet purr begins to appear from your own thorax, and Gamzee’s seems to rattle louder in response. You scoff and say, “Last night had been a fucking night and a half Gamzee. I didn’t have a single moment of peace or rest.”

“Not until I came,” Gamzee grins, happy and a bit proud.

“Not until you came,” you allow with a smirk and a roll of your gander bulbs. “Fucking romantic sap.”

“Ain’t hearing no complaints on about it, so I ain’t like to stop,” Gamzee says smugly.

You purse your lips for a second, auricular shells tingling as you decide to be bold mostly just to fuck with him, raising your prong and papping his cheek firmly. Not a light cautious tap like you’ve been doing, but and actual, honest-to-fuck pap. Gamzee chirps in surprise and his auricular fins go suddenly bright purple.

You smirk saying, “I’m not hearing any complaints, so I might not stop.”

Gamzee laughs lightly, saying, “Then motherfucking don’t.”

Well, that fucking backfired, you think as your face and auricular shells try to melt off.

A few tight nervous laughs escape your squeal pipette, and you cover your face with your free prong, muttering, “Fucking hell, you’re something else Gamzee.”

“I’m just being my natural me,” Gamzee responds, in a way that makes you think that has some tangent of a religious belief, and that you wouldn’t understand even if you ask.

You scoff and move your free prong to his shoulder, going back to stroking his cheek as you say, “Yeah, you seem pretty fucking good at that.”

Gamzee’s gander bulbs droop some more, and eventually you start speaking quietly, “If you really want to know, then I’m glad to complain to you. First off, no one wants to cooperate about cocooning season because they are useless pieces of shit. Really, they just don’t know how to prioritize anything over their own personal fucking desires to be petulant festering fuck-holes. You would rationally think that seeing some trolls cocooning early would put the metaphorical flame to their leaf fluid scalding device, but no. Or I guess maybe it lit the wrong fire given the metaphor, because the only thing that happened was that their complaints got even more vocal.”

You huff and pause, patting Gamzee’s chest as you continue to stroke his cheek. You smile at Gamzee’s rumbling purr and continue, “Two particular groups are being the most frustrating at the moment. The archeradicators are all ostentatious shallow blue bloods, and I swear to fuck they are all just duplicates of Zahhak. It’s actually fucking creepy, to be honest, one Zahhak is one too fucking many.”

Gamzee grunts faintly like he agrees, and you start massaging his shoulder while papping his cheek, purring and saying, “Then of course the damned diplomatrosses. Eridan himself is a _disembarrassment_ compared to the other charlatanical bilge water violet gill fuckers. These fucks,” your prong on his face stops moving as the one on his shoulder tightens, growling and baring your teeth as you go on, “they just find every little tiny, petty, insignificant, trifling, spiteful, cheap, grudging, paltry –”

A prong paps your cheek lightly and you take a deep breath before looking to Gamzee and rubbing his shoulder a bit apologetically as you mutter, “Sorry about that, I hope I didn’t hurt you?”

Gamzee hums quietly and you glare at him slightly, saying, “That’s not an answer.”

Gamzee chuckles lowly and murmurs, “Nah, I’m good.”

You grumble and drop your other prong onto his shoulder as well, saying, “Well, the point is that they are recurring and consistent sources of my anger.”

Gamzee’s prongs reach up to hold your sides delicately, asking, “They’s the ones as normal make you get to storming off in rage?”

You huff and say, “Not always, but yeah, they are pretty high up on the list. Then again, so are Feferi, Sollux, and Equius. All for varying reasons.”

Gamzee hums, tapping his fingers against your side slightly with his gander bulbs closed, taking a second before his fingers stop and he says, “I got a thought all brewing on in my pan as I’d like you to chew at upon all in consideration.”

“What is it,” you ask, pretty used to the weird phrases he spits out by now.

Gamzee opens his gander bulbs and asks, “Why ain’t you assign some of those threshers you trust most to be dealing with some of your work load? Ain’t that being to the point of having what lieutenants?”

You frown as Gamzee goes on, “Not saying for them to do everything or nothing, but can’t you be to let them motherfuckers you trained help you? You complain at after the other generals and the other army motherfuckers as like you ain’t being to trust them to handle no thing, and that’s all no matter I figure, but you trust your threshers so why all not get some help with the shit as you get all overwhelmed and stressed for to deal with?”

You blink and stare for a moment, opening your talk blaster before saying, “That’s actually a promising idea.”

Gamzee blinks at you like he’s startled and you mutter half to yourself, “I can even think of a few threshecutioners, Bergis is the most reliable troll I’ve known. Cereth and Runzoe too, maybe Caline and Nipham. Ah shit I’m going to have to rearrange some things, develop a new battleship crew. But if this works, it might be worth it.”

“Wait, why would you have to get a new crew,” Gamzee asks.

“Because the threshecutioners I trust the most are all in my battleship crew, and for good fucking reason I add,” you explain. “They are the strongest and most cooperative, as well as being trolls I’ve fought and survived many battles with. They are all inevitably entangled in a web of quadrants and such, so like hell I’m going to make them separate from each other, I couldn’t just pick a few out and replace them. I mean, I already feel bad enough for Bergis as it is, but Shrila is going to be back eventually.”

Gamzee stares at you silently and you smirk, holding his face in both of your prongs, making him gasp as you purr, “You’ve probably just made my life a thousand percent less stressful. Thank you.”

Gamzee rumbles out a loud purr, muttering, “No problem.”

“Oh,” you gasp out, taking your prongs off Gamzee’s face and going into your sylladex, accessing the card you need and grabbing what falls out quickly, “I almost forgot. Here.”

You offer Gamzee the small object, pump biscuit thumping as you smile at him. Gamzee blinks and stares at it, and you say, “It’s the key to my block, I managed to get the time to make a spare for you. I would have been so pissed at myself if I forgot to give you this.”

Gamzee suddenly launches forward, grabbing you in a hug as he makes a high-pitched chirrup, and you yelp in shock, holding onto the key to make sure it doesn’t get lost.

“What the fuck,” you squeak out, but stop short when you notice that Gamzee is crying as he nuzzles against your shoulder, purring as he holds you close. You stroke and pap his face softly, shooshing him and purring quietly.


	12. Chapter 12

You and Gamzee both stay busy for a while, Gamzee and his family with the renovations to the church, and you with training the new threshecutioners. Cocooning season has finally started moving along smoothly, and you have successfully reassigned your previous battleship crew to doing some of the tasks that were causing you to be overloaded with work, as well as promoting them all to lieutenants. There’s nothing wrong with having plenty of lieutenants, they all deserve it, and you probably should have promoted them a long time ago in hindsight. Overall, the twenty-sixth dark perigee is starting off with major improvements. You’re not too worried about making a new crew for your battleship right now, since your new lieutenants should be capable of doing both until you find replacements, but it’s definitely on your list of things to do – a list that has gotten significantly shorter recently.

Short enough that when Gamzee invites you to one of his carnivals, you have no real issue with having some of your newest lieutenants train the newbies for you. Therefore, within hours of Gamzee’s invitation, you’re at the newly renovated murder church.

“Holy shit I thought this place was huge before,” you mutter when you exit the autopilot ship, the loud music you had heard even from inside the ship growing louder.

Gamzee hadn’t come to pick you up, instead one of his psycho family had come with what you recognized as one of your autopilot ships.

Your silent escort is still silent and creepy. Gamzee runs out from the entrance and you stare at him for a second, startled by how he looks like he dressed up. He has his hair tied up messily, and he’s wearing black pants with a multi-colored floral pattern, as well as a sleeveless top that has this swirling pattern of colors, the symbols for the purple caste running down one side with his sign appearing slightly larger than the rest.

He gathers you up in a hug, slightly lifting you off the ground as he cheerfully greets you, “Karkat!”

You tap your prong against his shoulder blade and say, “Put me the fuck down you over excitable asshole.”

When he places you down, you hug him back and mutter, “Nice to see you too, by the way. You look way more colorful then I’m used to.”

You release your hug and Gamzee pulls back, grinning widely at you and saying, “Yeah? You like my outfit?”

“You look like the goddamn hemospectrum took either a dump on you or just fucking vomited all over you,” you pause, looking him over again. Well, at least his makeup looks the same, and you notice that even though his hair is tied up, his auricular shells and fins are still not visible.

You decide to add on, “Or maybe both, with the puke and shit getting tossed into a food liquidizer together with you for a finishing touch.”

Gamzee laughs, and you roll your gander bulbs at him, saying, “Is this something I should have dressed up for? I feel oddly underdressed given your attire.”

“Nah, you’re all fine,” Gamzee replies easily. You shrug, fairly satisfied with that reply, especially given that even some of your more _decorative_ attire wouldn’t really fit within this psycho show. Seriously, the best you have is an old button-up black shirt that you haven’t worn since, well probably since the last time you and Feferi met with a dignitary. So, about half a sweep ago.

Gamzee then turns to where the purple blood who escorted you is, _still_ standing like a silent creepy fucking voyeur, saying to them, “Thanks all for doing me this favor Educator Patton.”

You look to the clown, wondering if they’ll _finally_ talk since this is Gamzee and not you, but they start making odd yet familiar motions with their prongs.

It takes you a minute before you realize where you’ve seen them before, and the realization makes you shout, “Wait, _that’s_ why you were silent this whole fucking time? Because you use that fuckin bizarre prong communication hoofbeast manure?”

Gamzee laughs and says, “Ain’t can’t you understand it ‘cause of sister Gaxxic?”

“Hell the shit no,” you hiss. “I only _recognize_ it because of her, but I’d be bulge-fucked in the most painful way if someone told me that I had to translate that or, or fucking die, or some other ridiculous crap.”

Gamzee snorts and looks at the other clown, making motions with his prongs and you wait for him to stop before asking, “Wait, _you_ can do that weird prong communication?”

Gamzee glances at you and smiles, “Yeah, you be looking at whom done taught me it too.”

Gamzee looks back at the other clown, who starts making gestures again. It’s a while before they stop, so you guess they had a lot to say that time? Fuck if you know anything about this, plus they move their prongs quickly, so like hell you can keep up in any manner.

"Nah, none of that noise,” Gamzee says aloud, making gestures with his prongs.

The other clown shrugs in response to Gamzee and Gamzee turns to you and grins again, asking, “Ready for some revelries Karkat?”

You snort and say, “I guess? What was this carnival called again?”

“Carnival of Festivity,” Gamzee says with a quiet purr as he guides you into the church, nodding to the clowns at the entrance. “Ain’t for naught but just celebrating ‘cause we motherfucking can. They be one of the shorter carnivals, but they happen frequent and are the fucking best.”

“Didn’t you say the commencement one was the best,” you mutter with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of something crawling down your spine. Fucking residual mind-fuckery.

“They all be amazing in their own miraculous ways,” Gamzee says, making a sweeping motion with his prong and you see something sparkling in the air for a moment.

“What, the utter fuck, was that,” you ask, trying to relay your confusion as orally as possible.

Gamzee blinks and reaches in the pocket of his pants for a second, then he shows you the clump of glittering dust that he has pinched carefully in his fingertips. “Special stardust. I _know_ I spoke on and used it around you before, but you ain’t never seen it up close, yeah?”

You blink at the shimmering powder, vaguely recalling the name from the day you two spent in that cave. After he turned away from you though, you had left him alone to mutter to himself while you failed to move that fucking boulder. You had thought he was joking or like, being weird when he said that. You try to remember exactly what he said, why he was going to use it.

He had mentioned something about praying, right?

You look up at Gamzee, saying, “Um, okay?”

Gamzee laughs and lifts his prong above you, seeming to sprinkle some on your hair to your bewilderment, before he leans in and kisses your cheek, murmuring quietly and making your skin prickle faintly, “Peace be and be peace.”

Then he sprinkles some in a circle on the ground between you both, leaning forward and kissing your opposite cheek, still making your skin tingle as he murmurs, “Praise Messiahs as everything be cyclical.”

Then he reaches up above his own nugbone and seems to sprinkle the last of it on top of his own hair while smiling at you. Your face is burning, and you are so far out of your depth you might just be drowning, what the fuck.

“Uh,” you say. “Right. That. Sure, the fuck, just happened. Should I ask? I feel like I shouldn’t even bother to ask.”

Gamzee laughs, pulling back to say, “Blessing prayer and worship all in one my brother.”

“Yeah, okay, that made about as much sense as I thought it would,” you reply. “Which is none, in case that wasn’t already clear.”

Gamzee snorts and starts walking again, you hesitate before following beside him and asking, “How are Adamel, Iunond, and Gaxxic by the way?”

Gamzee seems to sober up some as he says, “They be safe, all them ten sweepers be tucked away as they get their transformations on.”

Gamzee pauses before he mutters, “Adamel was the last to get cocooning and I feel awful motherfucking bad for him. I was lucky as I cocooned earlier than the rest of my family back when I was ten.”

“Wait, why,” you ask, confused as hell. The conversation pauses for a moment as some clowns run by you, twirling almost drunkenly, trailing ribbons and laughing.

Gamzee grins and cheers, “Whoop whoop!”

The clowns respond with whoops and honks as they continue on their way, and you ignore an indistinct voice whispering next to your auricular shell.

Gamzee chuckles before he looks at you and says, “It’s gotta be lonely, yeah? I feel for my brother, and also praise Messiahs as my cocooning was all earlier than the others back when us fuckers were ten. Like, shit I think I just went to sleep one day and woke up a few weeks later, what with a few of my siblings coming out early too. Especially since there’s just six of us as are the same age? Lucky as fuck, that. Maybe even miraculous as I hadn’t had to deal with no loneliness.”

You hesitate before shrugging, saying, “There is no one else with my blood color so I pupated alone, shortly after achieving my title of Martinet, after being named the general of the threshecutioners. It was a short pupation of like two weeks? A few perigees after is when Feferi appointed me as the leader of the Imperial Army.”

“Wait, you done got named a general within two sweeps of being a thresher,” Gamzee asks. Oh yeah. You forgot he doesn’t know. Fuck.

“Yeah, pretty much,” you hedge cautiously. “I mean, you got a title at nine so?”

You make a confused gesture towards him and he looks away, saying, “I, that ain’t the same. Like with most church jobs, learning how to preach never fully stops. There’s always room for improvement and skills to be gained as can’t be gained through any other means then doing it for a long ass time. So, you can get a title and a job yet still not be fully taught. Plus, technically, even though we’re all hatchmates, those I got trained with all have wriggling days before me, so that’s mostly being why I was still nine at receiving my title.”

He pauses and looks back at you, saying, “But army shit? Threshers and what all? From my understanding of it, you earn rank through fighting, and it be common for it to take ten to a hundred sweeps just to raise one goddamn rank. That true?”

Now it’s your turn to look away as you say, “I, yes. I mean, that was true before I got to be the general, at least. It’s not that difficult anymore, I don’t make it impossible for lowbloods to become lieutenants, which is mostly why the time restraints for earning ranks were _there_ in the first fucking place.”

“But before you got titled, you somehow managed to get to _general_ , the highest damned rank, _in two sweeps_ ,” Gamzee says, putting up two of his fingers for emphasis.

“I,” you hunch up on yourself a bit, feeling pressured to be truthful, but not wanting to think about what happened, “Yeah. You could fairly say that. I, more or less, basically. Um.”

Focused on fighting so that you didn’t have to think about anything else? Fought to prove to yourself and others that you could do what everyone thought you couldn’t? Didn’t care if you died?

Mocking laughter pokes at your skull as you cough and mutter, “You know. Fought. A lot. At any opportunity. Even if I wasn’t assigned. Even if I, uh, was already wounded. Even if I had to literally escape the medicullers to do it.”

“What the fuck my brother,” Gamzee says flatly.

You try to suppress the inexplicable flush trying to spread across your face, sighing and mumbling as you admit, “Look, it was dumb, I was stubborn, and. I won’t say I completely regret it, or that I wouldn’t do it again if given the chance, but.”

You shrug vaguely, not sure where you were going with that. Just then, some assholes playing loud discordant music meander near you, all of them grinning at each other creepily. You sigh and watch them, the terrible excuse for a march, and their colorful clothes. Eventually they wander off again, seeming to have no care as to where they end up or how long they stay there.

A celebration just to celebrate, huh? You don’t want to think about your past, you don’t want to talk about your past, and. It’s selfish, but you want to distract Gamzee from this line of conversation. So, you look to Gamzee and say, “You know what?”

Gamzee blinks and hums, and your face goes a bit hot as you say, “I think I need a crash course in how to ‘enjoy revelries’ or whatever you said earlier. Think you can help me out with that?”

Gamzee slowly grins, huge and happy, before he says, “Hell yeah my brother. Let’s all go at to my block, get you all in color.”

You follow Gamzee closely as he weaves around the other clowns, whooping and honking at them as he passes. The walk takes much longer than last time and you wonder just how much larger the church is now. You saw it when you were landing, but that doesn’t really give you much of a solid idea about the size difference. You pass by many clowns all having fun in many ways; dancing, sitting in circles and making slam poems you guess, doing gymnastics, juggling between each other, the list goes on. These fucks do not joke about having an enjoyable time.

Eventually you reach the huge tent in the back, and Gamzee goes straight to the same flap-door as before, letting you go into his block ahead of him. His block is basically the same as last time, though you notice that his one-wheel device is on the floor. He goes to the vanity, completely ignoring the huge pile of clothes to your surprise, and rummages around in the drawers for a bit while muttering to himself. You figure you can let him handle choosing out your clothes, in the end they’ll probably all look ridiculous, so you don’t particularly care. Instead, you start trying to assemble his sleeping pile more neatly so that the floor is visible. It’s strangely peaceful, the both of you doing your own separate things in the same block together. After a while, there are distinct paths on the floor that lead to the vanity, the standing ablution chamber, and the door.

“I ain’t really got much as ain’t has a sign on it,” Gamzee mutters loud enough for you to hear him, distracting you from the feeling of someone breathing over your neck. You look over to see him scratching the back of his nugbone as he still looks through his drawers. Then he pulls something out, exclaiming, “Aha!”

You hesitate before walking over to see what he found. He turns to you, grinning as he holds a long-sleeved shirt out to you. All the colors of the hemospectrum run down it in vertical stripes, starting from fuchsia at one end and stopping at rust on the opposite.

You frown and grab it, staring at this odd green-yellow color between olive and yellow.

“Oh, that’s what all lime as went extinct,” Gamzee says.

“Oh right, I forgot about lime bloods,” you mutter, not wanting to ask how he could possibly own a shirt that has that color on it. There are just some things you do not want to know. You look up to Gamzee and say, “Well, it’s certainly colorful.”

Gamzee glances behind him and grabs something else, saying, “I also found these, though I ain’t got a certainty for how you feel about wearing shorts.”

You can’t help the face that you make as you make an uncertain noise. Gamzee laughs and says, “Ain’t no problem, can find something else then.”

You look at the clothes he gave you as he turns to dig through his drawers again. There’s a pair of short black shorts obviously, which you are _not_ a fucking fan of. The other thing he handed you is a short black jacket with a purple clown smile in the middle of the chest. Why does he even have clothes like these, they look fucking tiny for him. Are these from before he pupated when he was ten? That makes you realize that he might just be looking through his smallest possible clothes in hope of finding something that fits you. God _damn it_.

After a minute, Gamzee turns again, asking, “How’s these pants?”

You hand the shorts back to him and grab the pants, looking at them. They’re mostly plain, black with two stripes of purple on opposite leg sides, his sign on the hip of one side.

“Seems fine to me,” you say with a shrug. You look up to him and ask, “Mind giving me privacy to change?”

Gamzee snorts and says, “Sure.”

He walks out of his block, taking the path you made to your odd satisfaction, and after a moment of hesitation, you start pulling off your armor. Really, you could have done this with him in the block, but doing that, and then asking him to leave only when your taking your clothes off, seemed like a weird thing to do.

Once your armor is off, you put it in your sylladex, mostly so that it doesn’t get lost. Then you take off your pants, pausing before just leaving them on the floor for the moment. You don’t want your sylladex getting cluttered with clothes. You pull your shirt off with a little effort, hating the high collar, and you put both it, and your pants, in your sylladex. You ignore the scars on your arms and legs as much as you can, while also ignoring the feeling of being watched, pulling on the shirt Gamzee gave you. Once you get it on, you realize that it has a high collar as well. Did Gamzee do that on purpose? But why?

You shake your nugbone and get back to dressing yourself, pulling on the pants quickly and then slipping the short jacket on over your head. You pause to look at yourself in the mirror on his vanity.

Your hair is disheveled, and your cheeks tint red as you realize the shirt is a little long, bunching up around your wrists and waist. Besides that, you look nice for an over-colorful mutant, Kanaya would be having a fucking field day if she saw you like this. You huff and mess with your hair, trying to make it look at least purposefully messy, but it just continues to look like a damn spleenfowl’s nest.

With a groan, you call out, “Alright, do I look like enough of a flamboyant pseudo chucklefuck?”

You hear Gamzee laughing as he comes in and you turn to face him, just in time to see him freeze mid-step, talk blaster falling open slightly and gander bulbs going wide.

You wait for him to come back to his senses, but after a moment, you worry that he’s not even breathing.

You snap your fingers, hissing, “Hey, snap out of it, would you?”

Gamzee blinks rapidly and shakes his nugbone, putting his strut pod back on the floor finally, and he opens his talk blaster, but no sounds come out.

“Okay, what the fuck,” you say.

“Look nice,” he squeaks out, making you startle at the force of it. He hides his face with his prongs and mumbles, “Motherfuck. You, you look real nice Karkat.”

“If me looking this nice apparently breaks your think pan, maybe I should change back,” you suggest, honestly worried about him at this point.

Gamzee grumbles before muttering, “No, I. No. I’ll be fine. Just was surprised.”

Gamzee shifts and tucks some of his hair behind one of his auricular shells, and you see that it’s flushed a vibrant purple as he says, “You, might should consider wearing shit as ain’t your armor more oft. Bet there ain’t a thing as you couldn’t look nice in my brother.”

After a moment, you wonder if Kanaya would still let you take her up on that offer to make you something ‘more fashionable and less dull’. You aren’t that much into fashion, but maybe for once you want to show off and look nice for someone.

“I’ll think about it,” you say. “Now are we going to continue celebrating or what?”


	13. Chapter 13

You land on your back, panting and laughing as the elastic jumping platform shifts and moves against your weight for a moment. You look up to the sky and see Gamzee flip in the air before landing, bouncing up and down a few times before his momentum finally slows and he goes to his knees, crawling over to you as he purrs and grins.

You smile back at him and he curls up against your side, some of the other clowns whooping or honking as Gamzee chuckles breathily. One of them calls out, “Get a damn pile you rowdy ass showoffs!”

For once you don’t feel offended by the mocking, even as you hear imaginary snickering in your pan, but you still raise a middle finger and shout, “Fuck you, we do what we want.”

Gamzee purrs and murmurs, “Mm, yeah, tell them my brother.”

Some distant voices laugh, and it feels like they aren’t laughing at you, so much as with you. This shit is weird, but you could almost get used to it. Not enough to be painted up or whatever, but it’s a nice break from what you deal with in the Empire. Maybe this is the secret of how they all get along, you realize distantly. They goof off and relax together all the time.

You sit up and Gamzee softly murmurs, “Aww.”

You snort and comb your claws through his hair, careful of how it’s still tied up. He dissolves into a chittering, rumbling-purr of a mess, and your face goes warm as you say, “I’m just a little winded, I need a break.”

You lightly scratch his nugbone, and he chirps and purrs louder. Fuck, you need to stop before you get too carried away. You pull your prong away and he whines softly, but you carefully maneuver your way over to the edge of the elastic jumping platform, before you jump back onto solid ground. You sway a bit, because, whoa, that’s weird after being on that elastic jumping platform for so long.

Prongs stabilize your shoulders and Gamzee murmurs, “Careful.”

You gather your senses after a second and say, “Thanks.”

You walk a few steps away, watching Gamzee tumble off the side in a maneuver that you now know is purposeful. He lands in a squat on the ground, taking a moment before shaking his nugbone briefly and standing up with a smile. “I got a place in pan for a break if you want Karkat.”

“Sure, lead the way,” you say with a gesture.

Gamzee snorts before starting to walk. You follow beside him, silent and peaceful. Tonight’s been genuinely fun, you almost feel like a different troll. Even when you were young, you never really took the time to try to find entertainment, outside of movies, computers, and books. You’ve been loudly and grossly laughing at whatever stupid shit you found funny, being romantic whenever you felt like it and unashamedly flirting, eating a fuck-ton of sugar and unhealthy snacks, and just actually relaxing instead of trying to appear like a toughened badass all the time.

You notice that Gamzee seems to be leading you out of the church, mostly because you feel a strange pressure being slowly removed from your thorax, making it easier to breathe. You get a bit confused, asking him, “So where are we going?”

“There be a heated water source as we discovered while renovating the church,” Gamzee purrs. “It’s close by the outside of the church.”

You hum, having heard of heated water sources, but on Alternia they were considered deadly for a few different reasons. A short while after that, you arrive at a slight clearing with a water-filled basin with steam rising from it.

Gamzee turns to you, grinning as he says, “Just some place as a motherfucker could be getting to relaxing all private if they wanted. None of the family will bother us either.”

You snort and roll your gander bulbs at him, saying, “Come on stronger, why don’t you? I don’t think I caught the drift.”

Gamzee chuckles and mutters, “That so? I mean I dunno.”

He shrugs easily, “Been seeing at you for a while now and you do all seem to be tight strung, like a bow as is bound to snap, so I all just got to thinking that maybe you could all be to benefit from some respite. And this here water source does all be to ease knotted muscles and such, if you all be in want for to use it.”

You ignore your burning cheeks as you huff and say, “Are we getting in this or not?”

Gamzee nods, pulling his shirt off, to your surprise. You get a brief look at his lean muscled thorax and his grub scars, as well as a few other relatively small scars that’re probably from fighting or training, before his shirt disappears into his flashing sylladex, and then he turns and slips easily into the basin like it’s second fucking nature to submerge most of his body in water.

You walk over, slipping your shoes off and putting them in your sylladex. You sit on the edge, testing the water with your strut pods. It’s pretty warm, wouldn’t this eventually burn Gamzee’s skin? You stare at the water, hesitative and fiddling with the hem of the shirt you’re borrowing, pan blank.

You hear the water splash as Gamzee suddenly moves, saying to you, “Karkat, you ain’t got to take that shirt off, if it does be causing too much discomfort at you. I can even be to put mine back on, if it all bothers you. I weren’t real proper taking your opinion into consideration when I took it off, I be at apologizing.”

You growl lowly, saying, “Gamzee, you have no goddamn reason to apologize. I don’t care if your shirt is off, that’s your choice. Just like it’s _my_ choice to take _this one_ off.”

The water was causing you to hesitate more than anything, if you’re being honest. You wonder if he even has that ingrained fear of the water like all other land dwellers seem to. Well, he said he used to live near the beach, right? So even if he did have it, maybe after so many sweeps the ingrained fear was numbed by overexposure, or something like that.

But now that he brought it up, you look away and self-consciously mutter, “That being said, I think I will keep this shirt on though.”

Gamzee quietly mumbles, “Whatever all makes you get to comfort.”

You huff and slip into the basin gradually, eventually sitting down with a hushed, “Oh wow.”

Gamzee smiles and purrs, “Feels good, yeah?”

You smile and close your gander bulbs, mumbling, “Yeah, this is really nice.”

Gamzee’s purr gets louder and you are perfectly content to lay against the side of the basin and not think for a while. Gamzee picks you up and you open one of your gander bulbs as he pulls you onto his lap.

He kisses the top of your nugbone and murmurs, in that voice that makes you shiver faintly, feeling safe and protected, “Don’t worry my bro, go ahead and let them ganders close, I got you.”

You hum softly and let your gander bulb close again, a quiet purr leaving your thorax. The familiar loud rumbling-purr and warmth makes you feel utterly at ease. You smile and after a moment, Gamzee speaks up, “Hey, got a motherfucking query for you.”

“What is it,” you ask quietly.

“You think as I could all manage to be getting other quadrants,” he asks.

You frown and say, “Gamzee, if this is a matter of if I think others find you attractive –”

“Nah,” he says easily, “You all make it apparent as that you think I be attractive fairly often enough, even as I still struggle to see it. Meant more like, you think I could manage to be in a healthy relationship outside of ours?”

You shift, turning enough to look at him as he goes on, “Like, all be to flirt, purposeful intended and all aimed at the right motherfucking shade of romance as I actually want? And all getting flirted at with and like, actually realizing at it and knowing what quadrant they be aiming at for with me? I used to be thinking so, that if I had inclination or desire for such a thing with someone, I could be managing to go about it all proper, but I ain’t as sure any more.”

You wiggle around, situating yourself so you are still sitting on Gamzee’s lap, but so you can face him easier as you say, “There’s no way to know until you try I guess? I mean, you said not to use us as an example, but it’s not exactly like we fell into this as easily as you’re suggesting. Shit doesn’t have to be perfect to work out.”

Gamzee sighs faintly, muttering, “Guess not. Still though.”

You frown again and ask, “Why, are you interested in someone?”

Gamzee huffs out his cartilaginous nub, frowning as he grumbles, “Been thinking at how you said Feferi might all be wanting to get ashen between Nepeta and myself. Might be more interested then I originally thought, for all admitting that makes me all want to gag a little.”

You snicker and ask, “Yeah?”

Gamzee sticks his tongue out at you and you say, “Well, I can always help you out, you know. Give you tips about what would count as ashen flirting. Like, okay when’s the last time you talked to either of them?”

“Uh, Feferi was when I spoke at you both about what heretics,” Gamzee says and holy shit you almost forgot about that. “Nepeta I can’t motherfucking say. Probably never. Don’t even have her on my list of motherfuckers I once chatted to on trollian.”

“Holy shit Gamzee,” you mutter. He glances at you, frowning in confusion. You shake your nugbone and focus on the topic right now, “Okay so, there are a few _basic_ ways to flirt ashen. At least from the perspective of those not attempting to mediate. One way is to talk to the mediating party and emphasize something involving the relationship. Like, stress how much you don’t want to kill Nepeta, or stress how much Feferi can stop the two of you from killing each other, or stress how much Nepeta is intent on killing you. Another thing is to talk to the other non-mediating party and underlining how bad the current relationship is. Like pointing out how killing you is against the fucking law, pointing out that you want to get along, pointing out that you wish things were less volatile between you both. Of course, you can combine those methods, but that’s just about the simplest explanation I can come up with. Does all that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Gamzee replies and you raise an eyebrow at him. He scoffs and says, “Just considering what all to do now as I got an idea. Don’t be to give me that look my brother.”

“I’ll give you whatever look I feel is goddamn appropriate and you can’t fucking stop me,” you tell him mostly just to fuck with him.

He laughs, and you smile at him as he says, “Aight, I need to get all out though. The heat’s all getting uncomfortable and the steam’s bound to start fucking up my makeup soon. You gonna let me up and all come with me back to my block, so we can be getting dry?”

You don’t feel the heat getting uncomfortable, but you’re not nearly as susceptible to heat as he is, so you scoot off him and say, “Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

Gamzee pulls himself out of the water, you heave yourself out of the water after and oh holy fuck almighty, you are suddenly _freezing_. You wrap your arms around yourself and spit, “Fuck my nook, I need to get out of these soaked clothes. I’m fucking freezing.”

Gamzee looks at you, seeming surprised as he says, “I ain’t feel cold.”

You glare at him, hissing out, “Of course you wouldn’t, you’re a fucking highblood. You are made to withstand colder temperatures, just like lowblood can withstand warmer temperatures. Did you think having colder blood was just a weird quirk of your blood color? Why do you think fuchsias are the only ones who can handle being deep in the ocean? And I’m even more fucked on that since my blood runs hotter than a rust’s. It’s bullshit, no one is surprised that I have to deal with it, and can we stop the biological lesson and get the fuck to your block _before_ I freeze my shame globes off?”

Gamzee nods and you follow Gamzee as he walks back towards the church, muttering curses and shivering the whole way back to his block, feeling the hairs on your neck raise and a prickle of fear go down your neck as you get close enough to the church.

Once you get to his block, Gamzee hands you a towel out of the ablution chamber and you grab it, about to shoo him out so you can change in private, but Gamzee makes a gesture like he’s going to take a shower, before stepping into the ablution chamber and closing the weird door-hatch. You quickly strip down and dry yourself off before putting your regular clothes back on. The armor you can keep off until you go back to the training compound.

You still feel chilled as you dry your hair, and when you’re done with that, you walk over to Gamzee’s sleeping pile and rifle around in it, trying to find something warm, like a snuggleplane. After a few minutes of fruitless search, Gamzee seems to exit from the ablutionblock.

“Still got that towel Karkat,” Gamzee asks.

You blindly toss it back to him, asking, “Do you have any snuggleplanes? I’m still goddamn cold.”

Gamzee walks over while humming, saying, “Ain’t sure. Might be some all hidden around here somewhere.”

You turn around, looking at his wet hair that is laying mostly flat for once, the bases of his horns actually mostly visible, a towel wrapped around his shoulders and his makeup probably fresh. You are going to stab yourself in the face if he manages to get any more attractive, seriously, it’s not fair.

“Let’s all get in my sleeping pile,” Gamzee says before climbing up.

You climb up beside him, seeing him reaching blindly into the pile underneath him before he finally starts to pull something up. After a while of struggling, a snuggleplane appears from deep within the pile, and he smiles warm and happy at you as he wraps it over the both of you.

The small wiggler part of your pan hums contently at the warmth, softness, safety, and comfort as you scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and muttering, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Gamzee replies easily.

You bury your face into his chest, and after a moment of silence, you quietly ask, “Why even bother having me for a moirail?”

Gamzee seems to startle, and fuck, that was out of nowhere, but if you had _thought_ about it, you wouldn’t have _said_ it. You quickly rush out, “I just feel like I’m a fucking letdown for no reason right now and you said anytime I think of myself as a failure that I should talk to you and –”

You shrink and groan, ignoring imaginary bugs running across your skin, covering your face with your prongs as you say, “It’s, it’s stupid, okay? I know it’s fucking stupid, I hate that I think about it sometimes, but I. I just. I don’t think I’m the right fucking troll for you sometimes. I wonder if you wouldn’t be better off with someone else, like one of your family. I worry that you’ll get tired of me, that you’ll finally realize I’m not fucking worth it, that –”

Gamzee pulls your prongs away from you face carefully, but resolutely. His voice is full of emotion as he says, “My brother, thank you for coming to me, now shoosh and let me all take care of you. I pity the fuck outta every part and piece of you, I want you close and mine, want your touch and want you. Them are straight true unchangeable facts.”

You laugh sharply once, trying your best to not cry, but failing, “You have all these clowns constantly around you, trolls who would understand all your strange religious shit, like I fucking _don’t_. Trolls who can be with you constantly, night after night, like I fucking _can’t_. I know you’d never fucking cheat on me, so please don’t think I’m doubting or accusing you, because I’m not. I’m just so stupidly insecure sometimes, and I can’t see a single fucking thing in myself that’s worth _any fucking thing_. Let alone for you to want to be my moirail.”

Gamzee lets go of your wrists so he can wipe away the dismay fluid on your cheek, and he pauses before asking quietly, “Karkat, you true wanna know all why I want you and no other as my moirail?”

You look at him, torn between fear and needing reassurance. He seems to answer for you, saying, “Aight then my bro, showing you all my cards and spilling my own guts onto the floor, ain’t no going back even if I wanted. Which I don’t. But that ain’t entirely the point here. Sorry if I wasn’t being at clear about this before, but I’ll make at amends with what I tell you now.”

Gamzee pauses to take a breath before saying, “Karkat, I pity you because you are strong, and you care about so much that it’s fucking pitiful and amazing. I pity you because you push yourself and push yourself, and I want you to take a motherfucking breath every once in a while, ‘cause otherwise you’d brake yourself in your endless efforts to make everything better. I pity you because you look at me and smile at me, you fuss over me with trust and respect. I motherfucking pity you, and my family be friendly and all, but I ain’t never felt no spark of romance with any of them, Karkat. I care for my family much as you care for your threshers, we all be to help each other out, but I’ve always been at platonic with my family.”

“I guess I should consider myself lucky that you don’t think my affiliation with my threshecutioners is romantic then,” you mutter and look away, feeling even shittier than before, as a voice mocks you wordlessly in your pan.

Gamzee uses his prong to gently turn your face towards him, then says, “My brother, Karkat, I ain’t saying this shit in aims at making you feel as like you should consider yourself lucky or any of that shit. I say this ‘cause I motherfucking care about you, I care, and I want you to understand how much I pity you. I want you to understand that I ain’t never wanted no one but _you_ , that I ain’t never gonna leave you, that I want you because I found trust and respect and pity for you, and that these facts _won’t ever be to change_.”

You take a deep breath and look at him, saying, “I believe you.”

You exhale shakily, feeling relieved to say it out loud and hear him tell you that you’re wrong. You smile weakly at him and fuck it, you can’t resist. You reach out, carefully rubbing his cheeks. He makes a soft noise of surprise before his gander bulbs droop and a humming purr comes out of his thorax. You smile softly and purr back, and you can’t get enough of seeing how docile and relaxed he becomes under your touch, the thrilling-terror of it now feeling like contented delight. You reach to comb your fingers into his damp hair, rubbing his nugbone. The chittering, rumbling-purr from earlier kicks up again, loud and strong. You come even closer, until your body is pressing against his as much as possible, your chin on his shoulder as you gently rub and scratch at his scalp.

“Don’t think I forgot about you and your own self-image issues,” you murmur against his auricular shell. Gamzee shivers slightly and you whisper, “You don’t seem to have the same issues as I do, but you still aren’t very fucking kind to yourself all the time.”

Gamzee chirps and wraps his arms around you, and you continue softly, half wondering if you’re managing to use that soothing tone right now, “Yours seems to be more like you think you’re incompetent or stupid? I just want you to know that I _know_ you are fucking sharp as hell, I mean damn, you are illusive and cunning and conniving and lie as easily as you smile. Which, in case it wasn’t obvious, you smile very fucking easily. For fuck’s sake, I only recently learning about your self-image issues because you are that fucking secretive. Plus, I don’t think you could possibly be half as incompetent as you seem to believe you are, seeing as despite what you say, you do still manage to organize a whole damn caste to follow what you say, _even if they don’t agree with you_. Like seriously, half my frustration is finding ways to make multiple trolls agree with what I’m saying. What you do is amazing Gamzee, and once again you do it very fucking easily, as far as I’ve seen, so long as you don’t get stage fright or whatever you want to call it. Any time you doubt yourself I’ll be glad to remind you that you are an amazing, pitiful troll who I’m beyond happy to be in a moirallegiance with.”

Gamzee’s arms are limp around you now, and you are fairly certain you have him half asleep as you are resisting the urge to tell the mock-cooing in your pan to go fuck off, but he murmurs quietly, “I think I’m gonna be starting to read through my old messages. Be reluctant as fuck about it, but I want for to know as what all them motherfuckers said to me back then, when I was too stupid to know whether they were being disrespectful at me or my faith.”

You hesitate before muttering, “Well you know I’m here for you any time you need me.”

Gamzee nuzzles against you and says, “Yeah. I know as I can count on you for any motherfucking thing, whether it’s a terrible shitty thing, some happy celebration, or an ordinary motherfucking night.”

You smile and purr, snuggling close to Gamzee and more than happy to just lay here with him.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE FANART HOLY SHIT  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BpLLL0wAnB-/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link  
> I LOVE Y'ALL

Voices whisper against the back of your neck, your nerves instantly on edge as they warn and mock you without using any discernable words. You’re not welcome here. Pitch-black emptiness and high-pitched laughter surrounding you, suffocating you, making your pump biscuit race a mile a minute. Water slowly rises, the voices laughing louder. You’re going to die, isn’t that _funny_? You can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t smell, can’t feel, can’t hear, can’t move. Do you even fucking _exist_?

The voices cackle delightedly inside your skull, reveling in your death. We all die, isn’t that _wonderful_? Take joy that yours comes so soon! You can’t escape what is already here. Everything spins, and you feel sick, dizzy and terrified, voices taunting and laughing as you struggle against the invisible constraint. Dismay fluid leaves your gander bulbs as the last of your strength starts to disappear.

Sharp monstrous fangs rush towards your face, unmistakably those of an angel from wiggler terror-stories, and you jolt and scream, sickle pulled out to defend yourself. You lose your balance and start to fall forward, flailing your sickle around as you try to catch your balance, and not recognizing where you are. You’re confused and terrified as something wraps around your stomach and you yelp, trying to get away and turn towards whatever is holding onto you, ready to attempt a desperate escape.

“Whoa, whoa,” a voice says, someone holding a firm grip around you as a prong touches your face and makes you flinch.

“Where am I,” you gasp out, gander bulbs darting around the block, breathing heavy and quick, unable to get your pan straight.

“Where the fuck –”

“Church,” the voice says as the prong softly strokes your face, the voice murmuring, your skin tingling similar to the voices before, but this one makes you calm for some fucking reason, “You’re at church, so shoosh now. You’re fine, daymare can’t touch you here, shhh my brother.”

“Church,” you say, confused, and still looking around the block, “Daymare? What?”

The prong leaves your face, only to be placed gently at the back of your nugbone, before it pulls you into a firm and strong chest, the voice murmuring against your auricular shells, shivers going down your spine at the closeness and softness of it, “Sh, Karkat, shh, take deep breaths aight? Ain’t nothing to get fearful watch out for, I got you. So just be focusing on your breathing my brother.”

You listen to the voice, feeling oddly at peace despite your fear, breathing evenly as a prong strokes and paps your face, the other still holding onto the back of your nugbone. Eventually, your pan stops panicking, and you realize you’re in Gamzee’s block, and Gamzee just stopped you from falling over the side of his sleeping pile by grabbing onto you. You put your sickle back in your strife deck, beyond glad that you didn’t accidently hurt Gamzee.

You reach up, prongs a little shaky as you wrap your arms around Gamzee’s neck, panting as you hiss out, “Fucking. Remind me to never sleep here again.”

Gamzee nuzzles you and purrs, and you huff and relax against him, closing your gander bulbs as you distractedly mutter, “I haven’t had a daymare that fucking bad for a while. ‘A while’ being precisely the _last_ time I was around way too many clowns for an extended period of time. Your castes’ mindfuck powers suck ass Gamzee.”

Gamzee hums and murmurs, sounding curious, “You think my family done made you have a worse daymare then usual?”

“Not on purpose, obviously,” you mutter. “It’s not like I don’t have bad daymares occasionally, but I don’t think it’s coincidence that I have daymares more often when I’m around a lot of clowns. Not like I expect there to be a solution to that outside of not fucking sleeping here.”

Gamzee shrugs, stroking through your hair gently. It feels nice and soothing, but you scoff and mutter, “I don’t think I like that nearly as much as you do.”

Gamzee snorts, drowning out the whisper in your pan caused by the residual fear psionics, saying, “Well shit, might be so. Never really knew as I liked that, but fuck if it ain’t went to made clear at me, by all you done doing at it and my pan going all fucking.”

He chirrups softly, “Just fucking blissful, couldn’t think of nothing but peace and safety, like I was melting, and you were,” another chirrup, a purr winding itself around the sound, “You just, mm. I ain’t got words best friend.”

You push back to face him, seeing his gander bulbs drooping half-shut, smiling warmly at you. You smile back at him slightly as you ask, “Yeah? It felt that good?”

Gamzee nods and after a moment, you ask, “It didn’t bother you that we were in front of your family? I mean, you once said you didn’t care about being in public, but if you ever changed your pan about that, I’d want you to tell me.”

Gamzee laughs, “Nah, motherfuckers can get their watch on as much as they like, I ain’t got no shame in being with you. I care at you, not at what others all think.”

“As a counterpoint; having no shame in being with me and not caring if others watch us are two different concepts,” you say, embarrassed and mildly creeped out by the thought of someone else watching you two, especially in private moments like this.

Gamzee makes a vague noise and shrugs, his auricular fins going a little purple as he says, “I like the thought of showing off I guess? You be mine and I be yours, yeah? So, I, uh, I want others to know at that, you know? To know that you motherfucking got me all handled and I got you under my protection. Let them see how calm you make me, let them know how relaxed I make you. But uh.”

Gamzee looks away, “Ain’t like you got to do nothing, nor like the things I like.”

You squint at him slightly, glad he told you things that he wants, but not thinking the addition, of you not having to do anything, was necessary. After a moment, you let it slide and instead ask him, “So what kind of affection do you like?”

Gamzee shrugs and looks at you, “Like affection of all kinds, I suppose. Verbal, I’ll be happy to hear on about anything you have for telling me, ain’t ever gonna get tired of all listening at you. Physical, my brother, I _like_ your touch, I _want_ your touch. You papping and shooshing at me is the motherfucking, most miraculous bitchtits thing as has ever been happened at me, Karkat. You all getting to scratching and combing through my hair, was like blissful peace and relaxion granted upon me all unexpected, and certainly not fucking unwelcome. There ain’t a time nor place in all of space as I wouldn’t embrace you commonplace if I got your say so in the first place.”

“Did you just slam poetry at me again,” you rhetorically ask as manic laughter rings against your auricular sponge clots.

“Maybe a little,” Gamzee mutters.

You scoff and say, “I think I actually more or less understood you this time, but seriously Gamzee, I am terrible with that shit.”

Gamzee chuckles and smiles, saying “Well, as to finish what all I was saying, the rest I ain’t knowing much about, ‘cause I never got no chance as to figure out what I like or dislike romantically.”

You hum and say, “Guess that makes sense. You’re actually a fairly easy to please troll, aren’t you?”

“I do be supposing as I got a bit of a hunger in my soul for a kind gentle touch,” Gamzee mutters, grinning toothily. You open your talk blaster, then close it again and Gamzee laughs, saying, “But I can all be easy to please when I ain’t got reason to be difficult.”

Gamzee blinks suddenly, saying, “Speaking of, I just remembered as I also like the thought as that you can suplex me.”

“What the fuck,” you say flatly, not even able to be surprised, just. What the fuck.

Gamzee snorts and explains with a smirk, “I be a crazy fucker. Get real gone in my pan. Rage takes me all blindside sometimes. Knowing as I got a moirail as is strong enough to physically stop me before I kill unintentional? Like that a whole motherfucking lot, in truth.”

You sigh before chuckling and saying, “Hopefully it won’t come to that, but I guess I can see where you’re coming from.”

Before the comfortable silence can stretch on too long, you hear a voice reluctantly ask, “Grand Pulpiteer, uh, well shit, I lost a bet. You and your moirail all being well and decent?”

Gamzee huffs through his cartilaginous nub and says, “My bro had a daymare, tell them as got curious concern as it ain’t no big motherfucking deal. Also, to fuck off.”

You sigh and whisper to Gamzee, a little self-conscious now that you know you have an audience, “We can’t just lay here all night.”

“Fuckin’ _could_ ,” Gamzee hisses quietly, obviously having caught your desire to not be heard. Then he goes stiff and says, hushed, “Uh, I mean. Unless you don’t wanna.”

You flatly stare at him for a minute, taking a deep breath before looking back and shouting, “Give us a few minutes.”

“Oh, uh,” the clown says, sounding confused, “Sure?”

You look back at Gamzee to see him change to looking passive, from what expression, you couldn’t quite catch in time to tell, but you flick his horn lightly either way. He squeaks and reaches up towards his horn with both his prongs, frowning and looking confused and mildly offended.

“It’s not about what I want to do,” you say firmly, not knowing if the feeling of being watched is because of the usual mind fuckery in this place or because there is literally someone not that far from you. “It’s about what we need to do. While relaxing alone together all night sounds fucking _wonderful_ , you have a carnival to get back to, and I do need to return to my duties as Martinet. We still have jobs, asshole. So, don’t fucking low-blow my pity gland like that, and make it sound like I don’t want to be here with you and spend time together.”

Gamzee opens his talk blaster like he has a heated rebuttal, but he pauses before he says anything, his shoulders dropping after a second as his talk blaster closes back into a frown. You raise an eyebrow at him, partly challenging him to say whatever it was.

Gamzee’s auricular fins go purple and he squints at you, muttering, “You are a motherfucking hard-ass sometimes. Flicking a motherfucker’s horn, cruel as fuck my brother.”

“Yeah, how is this new information,” you ask blandly.

Gamzee snorts and laughs, “Messiahs, motherfuck you, I was trying to be serious.”

“It doesn’t suit you well,” you respond easily.

Gamzee sighs like he a lost battle, “Yeah, guess not. Fine, let me all guide you out to your ship.”

You get off him and climb down the pile, stretching as you say, “Maybe this is just me, but it’s weird as fuck that you don’t have a tent just for you.”

“What you mean,” Gamzee asks.

You access your armor and put it on while talking, “Like, you remember how there was that throne block the Condesce had? Kind of like that. Feferi has one too. You know, somewhere to judge poor assholes for not being funny enough, or whatever the shit a Grand does. It could also serve as a place where you could talk to Feferi as, you know, the official leader of the clowns. If you are sitting in a similar position of power, in a throne and all that shit, she might start respecting your influence. Even if it’s not actually the same as the Empire because family weirdness.”

You move around in your armor after putting it on, knowing it gets stiff sometimes, going through fake slicing motions with an imaginary sickle. Once done with that, you look to Gamzee with a shrug, “You can ignore me if you think it’s just because I’m predestined to think militarily.”

Gamzee hums, “Nah, makes sense. If not for just making Feferi realize as I need to be respected. I let it pass and it don’t matter no more, but her telling my given name at someone I wasn’t knowing at the time was not motherfucking cool.”

You remember how she literally said his title didn’t matter and called for the generals to be ready for a war ‘just in case’, fuck thinking about that still pisses you off, making an unhappy noise and frowning as you say, “Yeah, sure, if that’s what makes sense to you.”

Gamzee looks at you sharply as you pretend you don’t feel bugs under your skin, but it’s not exactly like you were _trying_ to be entirely elusive about it. Even if you’re slightly nervous that you might not be able to calm him if he found out that Feferi said either of those things, you refuse to lie to him outright if he asks.

After a moment his stare goes flat, and he mutters, “I ain’t even wanting to know, am I?”

You shrug with an uncertain scowl, “Up to you. Even if I would rather there _not_ be an issue between you two, I won’t lie to you about it if you ask. I gave her shit about it, if that’s any consolation.”

Gamzee sighs and says, “Nope, just gonna focus on the fact that you done defended me.”

Gamzee smiles stupidly after he says that, and your face goes warm as you say, “Yeah, well, get used to it. I’m always going to be fighting on your side.”

Gamzee looks at you like you startled him, then grins warmly and you turn around, saying, “I’m going now. If you want to lead me out, you better follow.”

“Aight best friend,” Gamzee replies while purring loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case it's unclear, no, no one is purposefully fucking with Karkat's mind  
> the way i made the chucklevoodoos work in church is, well  
> basically they are subconscious, so when someone is asleep it's more obvious  
> and since Karkat isn't purple, it fucks w his dreams  
> that is, p much all i want to say about the voodoos  
> ... for now :x


	15. Chapter 15

Gamzee quickly gets a tent he refers to as ‘the Grand Tent’ made before the twenty-seventh dim perigee even starts, in only a few nights, to your mild surprise. You think you’re beginning to understand, somewhat, how efficient the clowns can be, despite their reputations for being unproductive. You at least understand by now that even though they frequently goof off, they still are quick to get shit they see as important done. He tells you all about how it has a huge central tent where the judgment chair is, with a medium sized tent connected to that which serves as his personal block. It seems simple, yet functionable, and you hope it is helpful to him.

Right now, you’re resting in your recuperacoon, unable to fall asleep for no explainable reason. You _tried_ going to sleep early since you were tired, but you’ve been in your recuperacoon for a few hours now, trying to get yourself to fall asleep. It’s fucking ridiculous considering that you’re extremely exhausted. You frown and get out of your recuperacoon, walking into your ablution block and quickly washing the sopor slime off your skin. You dry off just as fast, and clean off the sopor on your floor, before slipping on some loose sleep pants and a t-shirt with your sign on it. You’ll go rest on the pile and read a good book, and maybe that’ll hopefully help you sleep.

You hear your phone going off and you take it out of your sylladex, seeing that it’s Gamzee contacting you over trollian, and you click on it to see what he is saying. You put your husktop in your sylladex and look back at Gamzee’s messages on your phone as you walk out towards the pile.

terminallyCapricious [TC] started trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TC: … HaVe i eVeR MeNtIoNeD On aS I MoThErFuCkInG HaTe hOw i wAs a dUmB AnD StUpId mOtHeRfUcKeR WhEn i wAs yOuNg

CG: I, DON’T BELIEVE SO? I’M FAIRLY CERTAIN EVERYONE HAS DONE SOMETHING WHEN THEY WERE YOUNG THAT THEY SEVERELY REGRETTED LATER ON THOUGH. WHY DO YOU BRING IT UP?

TC: I

TC: rEmEmBeR As i sTaRtEd tRyInG To rEaD SoMe oF WhAt oLd mEsSaGeS

CG: OH! OH, OKAY. YOU STARTED WITH EQUIUS, RIGHT?

TC: yEaH, sEeInG As i aLrEaDy dOn’t pArTiCuLaR LiKe tHe bRoThEr aNd i fIgUrEd tHeRe wErEn’t mAnY MeMoRiEs aS CoUlD Be rUiNeD

CG: YEAH, I REMEMBER YOU SAYING THAT. CAN I ASK WHAT EXACTLY YOU’RE GETTING PISSED AT YOURSELF FOR?

TC: sHiT LiKe

TC: … I CaN CoPy tHiS ShIt tO YoU If yOu WaNt mY BrO

CG: USUALLY I WOULD SAY NO BECAUSE THAT SHIT GETS FRUSTRATINGLY CONFUSING AND STUPID VERY GODDAMN QUICKLY. BUT FOR YOU? GO THE FUCK AHEAD IF THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE COMFORTABLE DOING.

TC: yOu aRe mOtHeRfUckInG PiTiFuLlY SwEeT KaRkAt :o)

TC: BuT HeRe wE AlL Go hE StArTs oUt wItH Uh

TC: CT: D --> Hello again Highb100d, I have come to remind you of how 100dicrous and despicable you are CT: D --> Also, I suppose it is another feeble attempt to convince you to act in a way that e%emplifies the perfe%ion of your b100d color

TC: ThEn i’m jUsT LiKe

TC: TC: oH, hEy BrO iT’s AlL bEiNg NiCe To Be hEaRiNg AlL fRoM yOu AgAiN :oD

CG: WAIT WHAT

TC: MoThEr fUcKiNg rIgHt

TC: LiKe dAmN WhAt tHe fUcK WaS I ThInKiNg

TC: It oNlY GeTs tO FuCkInG BeTtEr fRoM HeRe :o(

TC: CT: D --> See this is what I’m talking about CT: D --> You should put me in my place for talking to a superior in such and uncouth manner TC: hAhA yEaH yOu AlWaYs Do GoT tO bEiNg SaYiNg ShIt LiKe ThAt EvErY nIgHt YoU sPeAk aLl At tO mE. TC: wHaT hIlArIoUs ShIt YoU hAvE tO bE aLl AnD sAyInG aT mY fAcE tOnIgHt MoThErFuCkEr? CT: D --> I am not joking CT: D --> I do not joke CT: D --> I do not do any frivolous wiggler a%ivities because it is beneath me CT: D --> Just like I’m beneath you TC: UhHh I aIn’T sEeInG yOu BeNeAtH mE tHoUgH? TC: aRe YoU aLl hIdInG aNd TrYiNg To SuRpRiSe Me BrO? TC: cAuSe I aIn’T fOnD oF bEiNg StArTlEd. :o( CT: D --> No CT: D --> I do not mean I am literally beneath you CT: D --> I mean socially speaking CT: D --> According to the hemospectrum and our respe%ive b100d TC: OoOoOoHhHh OkAy. TC: I sTiLl DoN’t GeT wHaT aLl YoU mEaN.

TC: CT: D --> Of horse not CT: D --> I mean of course not CT: D --> Fiddlesti%s TC: hAhA hOoFbEaStS aRe AlL cOoL. CT: D --> Why sully your language with lowb100d vernacular CT: D --> It’s like you try to ma%imize my hatred CT: D --> At least you have an appreci%ion for STRONG creatures TC: i GuEsS? TC: bUt I aIn’T tRy To MaKe YoU gEt DiSlIkE aT mE oR nOtHiNg. CT: D --> I know CT: D --> You’ve made that abundantly clear several times CT: D --> Which makes it even more frustrating when you continue to not uphold any standards for yourself like one of your color should TC: SoRrY bRo BuT i DoN’t ThInK i KnOw HoW aLl To NoT dO tHaT. TC: i AiN’t EvEn SuRe As I’m BeInG tO aLl UnDeRsTaNd WhAt AlL i’M dOiNg To GeT yOu AnGrY. CT: D --> Please stop talking TC: :o)

TC: CT: D --> I just came by for a quick chat and to remind you that you’re terrible CT: D --> Which always ends up pointless and much longer then I intended CT: D --> I wasn’t supposed to get this worked up about it CT: D --> I wonder where my towels are CT: D --> … CT: D --> Did you get distracted and stop reading again TC: :o) CT: D --> What CT: D --> What does that mean TC: :o) CT: D --> Are you CT: D --> Refusing to speak because of what I said TC: :o) CT: D --> Ok, no CT: D -->You’re not supposed to regard my words as having any sort of authority over you CT: D --> This is utterly una%eptable CT: D --> Stop TC: oK. CT: D --> No that’s CT: D --> You’re still listening to me like I’m your superior CT: D --> That’s not right TC: wHy NoT? CT: D --> Because you are better than me CT: D --> Don’t you understand that TC: hAhAhA cAn’T sAy I dO bRo :o)

You flop on the pile and switch from your phone to your husktop, laying comfortably in the pile as you talk to Gamzee.

CG: I MEAN, OKAY, THIS SEEMS PRETTY GODDAMN USUAL FOR EQUIUS WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER. AND NOW AS WELL, I GUESS. NOT THE POINT. HE’S A GROSS SWEATING DOUCHE WITH AN OBSESSION TO THE HEMOSPECTRUM. WHAT ELSE IS THERE?

TC: NoT ToO MuCh mOrE LeFt oN ThIs oNe

TC: TC: EvErY mOtHeRfUcKiNg OnE oF uS bE tRoLlS, sO wHo ThE fUcK uP aNd DeCiDeD tHaT oNe CoLoR wAs BeTtEr ThAn AnY oThEr? TC: AlL cOlOrS lOoK eQuAl BeAuTiFuL iN a RaInBoW. TC: sO wHy aIn’T wE sEeInG aT eAcH oThEr LiKe ThAt SaMe WaY? CT: D --> The great and glorious Empress, with her divine fuchsia b100d proved her magnificence and STRENGTH CT: D --> She is who gave us the hemospectrum in all its glory CT: D --> You should be grateful TC: hAhA wHaT tHe MoThErFuCk BrO? CT: D --> Nevermind CT: D --> Obviously you don’t understand what it means to be a true highb100d CT: D --> Not for lack of me trying to educate you CT: D --> I don’t even know why I try CT: D --> I highly doubt even I could truly succeed in making you act more appropriately TC: mAyBe YoU tRy BeCaUsE dEeP dOwN yOu KnOw ThAt BlOoD cOlOr NoiSe Is FaLsE. :o) CT: D --> No TC: wElL sHiT! CT: D --> I am leaving now CT: D --> This conversation was pointless, perhaps even more so then usual TC: gUeSs I’lL sEe YoU tOmOrRoW aT aLl AbOuT tHe SaMe TiMe BrO! :oD CT: D --> … CT: D --> Yes CT: D --> Until then

CG: WOW, I JUST. WOW EQUIUS. WHAT THE FUCK.

TC: EqUiUs iS NoThInG BuT JuSt sOmE BiGoTeD FuCk iN JuSt aBoUt eVeRy wAy sO ThAt aIn’t a bOtHeR Or nOtHiNg

TC: BuT ReAdInG My fUcKiNg rEsPoNsEs iS LiKe

TC: FuCkInG GoDdAmN

TC: i jUsT WaNnA ThRoTtLe mY YoUnGeR SeLf rIgHt nOw

CG: I DON’T REALLY SEE WHY? YEAH, YOU SEEMED A LITTLE TOO PLEASANT GIVEN HOW MUCH EQUIUS WAS BEING A SWEATING SACK OF SHIT, BUT EVEN NOW YOU ARE USUALLY PLEASANT. I MEAN, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, FEFERI WAS BASICALLY PREPARING FOR WAR AGAINST YOUR FAMILY AND YOU DECIDED TO COOPERATE INSTEAD OF, I DON’T KNOW, KILLING HER OR SOMETHING? I UNDERSTAND IT WAS BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T, AND DON’T, WANT TO PIT YOUR FAMILY AGAINST THE IMPERIAL ARMY. BUT STILL, THAT KIND OF THING PROBABLY WOULD’VE MADE SOMEONE ELSE A LOT MORE AGGRESSIVE AND UNHELPFUL THEN YOU HONESTLY WERE OVERALL. OR AT LEAST, THAT’S WHAT I THINK. MAYBE I’M WRONG, I DON’T KNOW.

CG: NOT SAYING THAT YOU WOULDN’T ALWAYS PUT YOUR FAMILY AND FAITH FIRST AND DO WHATEVER YOU THOUGHT WAS RIGHT, BUT AS FAR AS I CAN TELL, YOU’RE JUST A FAIRLY MILD TROLL ASIDE FROM YOUR RAGES. AND THERE’S ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG ABOUT THAT. YOU’RE NOT ANY LESS DANGEROUS. YOU CAN STILL BE STUBBORN OR SECRETIVE OR DOWNRIGHT DISHONEST IF YOU FEEL YOU HAVE THE NEED, BUT MOST OF THE TIME YOU TEND TO JUST IGNORE ALL THE SLIGHTS AGAINST YOU UNLESS THEY GET OUT OF PRONG.

CG: WHICH IS LIKE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF ME, CONSIDERING I FLIP OUT AT EVEN THE SLIGHTEST INDICATION OF SOMEONE TRYING TO DO THAT SHIT TO ME.

CG: THE POINT I’M TRYING TO MAKE HERE IS I DON’T SEE WHY YOU THINK YOU WERE BEING STUPID, ALL I CAN SEE IS HOW MUCH EQUIUS IS THE SINGLE MOST CRINGE-WORTHY TROLL WITH MULTIPLE LAYERS OF UNSETTLING HOOFBEASTMANURE ON FULL DISPLAY.

TC: I MeAn wHeN AiN’T He bEiNg lIkE ThAt

You hesitate at that response, logging into the video chat application and requesting a video response from Gamzee. He answers almost immediately, his hair already tucked behind one of his auricular shells, looking slightly confused as he says, “What’s up best friend? Did I wake you or some shit? Looks as if you recent hit the abolition trap.”

“I was in my recuperacoon, but I wasn’t falling asleep, so I got up to try to find a book to read. Even before I knew you, I’d get out to read a book on the couch. It helps because sometimes I’ll end up finally falling asleep while reading,” you say. “Now when I want to do that, I have a nice comfortable pile to lay in, and I think that helps even more.”

Gamzee opens his talk blaster, then closes it for a second, before finally asking, “Which book was you all going to be looking for?”

Your face goes hot and you say, “There is no way you could _pay_ me to reiterate the entire title. It’s, fuck, it’s the one with, with the main couple embracing, a female lowblood has a prong gently stroking the male highblood’s face and, and it just happens to be the one I was re-reading recently!”

Gamzee’s auricular fin turns a faint purple and he quickly removes something from his sylladex, holding up a familiar cover and quietly asking, “This one?”

“Yes,” you murmur quietly. Neither of you say anything for a second before you ask, “Why, exactly, do you have it?”

Gamzee’s auricular shell and fin go a darker purple, and he mutters, “Uh, I, sometimes burrow your books? For uh.”

His lips purse together for a minute before he admits, “Tips.”

“What,” you say.

“I, thought it’d be a good idea to read the books you like, so uh,” Gamzee glances away, “So I can get some what good idea at the kinda shit you might like from me?”

He looks back to you and quickly says, “Not as like I’m doing shit as I ain’t got comfort or want to do, but it’s given some good ideas for things to try at, like that voice thing as seems to do good for you, and I also kinda got invested in this story now too? Uh. yeah.”

You blink, opening your talk blaster for a second, then saying, “Yeah, that is a very intense book. I like it a lot.”

Gamzee smiles and you say, “Any who, going back to our original topic, are you aware that Equius was probably black flirting with you?”

His smile drops, and he blinks before saying, “What.”

“I can’t absolutely guarantee, but I’d bet ceagars on it,” you reply.

“No way,” Gamzee mutters while frowning.

You sigh and explain, “In the conversation, you and he both mentioned how he contacted you very frequently, for no other reason than to tell you that he hated you. Throughout the conversation, he’d reiterate every little thing that he hated about you. He was extremely bossy and demanding, belittling you at every chance, and even explicitly mentioned wanting to change you, presumably to be more like him.”

“Holy shit,” Gamzee says like he’s disgusted. You can hear a low growl through the video as he places his prongs over his face, groaning, “Oh my motherfucking – what the fuck.”

“So yeah, if anyone should be cringing at their past self during that conversation, it’s him,” you say.

“How did I miss that back then,” Gamzee seems to ask himself.

You sigh softly and say, “To be fair, you aren’t always the best with catching onto flirting even now.”

Gamzee drops his prongs to look up at you, frowning and seeming hurt as he says, “Motherfucking harsh.”

“Hey,” you exclaim, “I’m just saying! Being oblivious isn’t some kind of personal failure!”

Gamzee pouts and you grumble out, “Like, okay, there’s obviously some reason that you think you were being stupid when you were young. I’m not trying to say that your feelings are unimportant, I know that how you feel matters, I know that whatever causes you to feel like this is a big fucking deal. I’m not trying to imply that it’s not. I may not know what happened, but I know that you must have your reasons for feeling and thinking what you do.”

You pause before continuing, “However, without all the information, I have to take what I see at face value and try to help you based off of that. Based off what I see and what I know, all I see is two young trolls. I see a young troll who’s flirting terribly and disturbingly, and one young troll who simply is oblivious and friendly despite everything.”

Gamzee looks away and you go on, “Young trolls do way worse stupid shit all the time! There are swathes of conversations I’ve had in the past that were so embarrassing that I _literally_ deleted them! Some of these hiveshit maggots trolls I call hatefriends have permanently disabled each other for no fucking reason beyond they goddamn _could_ and supposedly some bullshit sense of revenge, when they were younger! So, I was just trying to say that I don’t see what it’s such an issue for you to have been oblivious then, when you are just as oblivious now.”

He hesitates, before looking at you and saying, “Because I was all oblivious back then ‘cause I ain’t known shit. I didn’t know what the motherfuck any one was all saying back then, all to be including myself. I didn’t have no kind of idea what all was going down at reality. Now I know things ‘cause I’ve had those I trust to teach me what all they could, but I still ain’t got a full understanding because I never got at learning that shit when all I should have.”

You sigh before speaking firm and serious, making air quotes as necessary to emphasize your point as much as possible, “Okay, I’m going to assume that you mean you don’t understand how romance is ‘supposed’ to be. If that’s the case, then buckle the fuck in, because you’re currently talking to someone who spent literally all his young life obsessed with rom-com movies and agonized over every single little thing he ever said because he wanted to ‘do it right’. I have poured innumerable hours and _sweeps_ into researching, analyzing, and dissecting every single aspect of the quadrants. Red, black, concupiscent, conciliatory, flushed, pale, caliginous, ashen, and vacillation of any shade or kind. Name it and I can tell you just about anything you’d want to know about it, and more, in time-consuming pain-staking detail. But see, the problem with that is that those are _ideals_. They are stereotypical, they are perfect, and they are fucking impossible Gamzee.”

You pause before continuing, “I don’t think there’s a problem in not understanding how things are ‘expected’ to be, because societal expectations are meaningless in real life. Not everyone is going to act, think, and feel the same way. See, that was my problem when I was young and flirting with Terezi. I flirted with her the way I thought I was ‘expected’ to flirt with her, according to movies and all that shit. I thought I was doing everything perfectly, following every trope and guideline and blah blah blah. You want to know what the fuck happened? She ended up getting fed up because she felt I was giving her mixed signals. Which, fair enough, I might have been, and she eventually got tired of the back of forth. So yeah, movie expectations are fucking great in theory, ideals and hopes are good to have or whatever, but in real life you don’t get everything you want. You have to meet halfway with others, find common ground and build up on that. _That_ is what real, healthy relationships are about.”

Gamzee seems to be unconvinced, thinking about what you said, so you add on, “If my tirade didn’t convince you, if you still want to try to insist that you don’t understand how to ‘properly’ do romance, then consider the fact that our relationship is going quite goddamn well. If you don’t understand romance, how the hell would you explain that,” you ask. Gamzee looks towards you, opening his talk blaster, but you interrupt him before he can say anything, “Don’t you _dare_ say its just because of me, because you participate in this relationship just as much as I do and we both know it. You care about me, so you take time to talk to me and spend time with me, and all that other stuff. You don’t need to understand how things are ‘supposed to be’ in order to have successful, fulfilling, healthy relationships Gamzee.”

He huffs through his cartilaginous nub and frowns, so you ask, “Tell me, what do you think is better? Being in a stable, balanced relationship where you can be yourself and be happy? Or constantly trying to do only what you think is expected of you, never really enjoying yourself or the relationship because you have to be someone fucking else?”

Gamzee stares at you for a moment, his talk blaster open slightly. Then, he quietly says, “I, Karkat I pity you so much. You’re so motherfucking good to me and for me, and I just. I’m so fucking appreciative as you be in my life.”

Your cheeks heat up slightly and you say, “I’m glad you feel that way, and, I hope you know I feel the same. You’re a positive influence on my life, I’m happy to be with you, and I pity you a lot.”

Gamzee grins and you can hear him purring through the video, and you smile softly back at him. Then he grins sharper and asks, “You feel as like you want me to read that story to you? You said that reading might to be helping you sleep, but seeing as I have the book.”

Gamzee trails off, your face probably bright fucking red as you grumble, “How the fucking hell do you change gears so easily you damned juggle fiend?”

Gamzee chuckles and opens up the book, saying, “Aight, I’ll start at where all I stopped reading it last. I’m sure you done read it enough to know what all happened before.”

Despite your pan complaining about how embarrassing this scenario is, you don’t try to stop him from reading to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw, in case you can't tell, the book is basically a pale version of the harlequin romance novels  
> *finger guns*


	16. Chapter 16

For a few nights, you observe your old battleship crew as they train the newbies, thinking that from what you seen, it seems like you have a halfway competent batch of recruits this time around. Maybe they could end up as your new battleship crew? It’s not like you really wanted to take two separate flaysquads out of their current deployments and try to make them mesh together. You got fucking lucky with your old battleship crew. Having a group that already works well together would save you so much time and trouble. Usually you separate the group of recruits into flaysquads of who works together best, but maybe you should try something different this time? Guess you’ll just have to see after their test battle, which is still perigees from now. For now, you just listen and watch as your newest lieutenants instruct the newbies.

Time passes by slowly, you keep up with all the generals and Feferi, messaging Gamzee about what you’re doing. The other generals and Feferi are quick to reply and argue about some stupid small thing, setting up another conference meeting. You let them know that you will be unavailable until you’re done with your threshecutioners, but don’t expect that they will actually leave you alone to do your job.

After a short while, the generals all make their way to your training compound and stand around you, Feferi asking, “So how much longer do you think this will take?”

“I’m not really sure,” you reply with a frown. You open your talk blaster to continue, when suddenly you hear an unmistakable sound of psionics flaring up. You turn quickly to see Wiisne floating, her gander bulbs flashing as dismay fluid runs down her face.

Runzoe stands as you shout, “Everyone back off, she’s having a helms overload!”

Most of the trolls near her scatter as quickly as they can, Cereth and Rhazin both kneeling near the same area as her, while Runzoe hurries over to Wiisne. You march over, yelling, “Cereth, Rhazin, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You see Runzoe is trying to soothe Wiisne out of the corner of your gander bulb. Cereth looks over to you quickly, and you see that he’s crying as well. Oh fuck. Oh no.

You pick up your pace and shout, “Bojanv, Serold, I may need you both over here as well!”

When you get over and kneel next to Cereth, panic is clear in his gander bulbs as he asks, “Bojanv’s alive? Serold too? What about Bergis, and, and just. Who’s still alive? Please!”

“Everyone,” you say, pump biscuit pounding against your auricular sponge clots as your pan races to figure out what the fuck is going on.

Bojanv rushes in beside you, reaching out towards Cereth and saying, “What did you think already happened?”

“I,” Cereth grabs Bojanv’s prongs tightly, laughing sharply, “Everyone died! They’re all dead! So much blood, all our hatefriends, the newbies, the lieutenants. All of them are dead Bojanv. The generals, Kindness, _everyone_.”

“Martinet,” Serold speaks up, calm and serious, and _that_ is when you know you’re utterly fucked. You see her looking up from her embrace with Rhazin. “He’s caught in a prediction. I managed to look into it with my own psionics. It’s not pretty. Tons of bloodshed, pointless and ruthless, brutal deaths.”

You start to stand, but Serold calls out, “Wait!”

You stop, and she stares at you meaningfully, like she’s trying to give you some kind of hint, “Stop the root of the problem.”

“That’s what I plan to do, at all costs,” you reply unwaveringly. Serold nods and you turn around before announcing, “We are now on high fucking alert, if we didn’t have a strategy or plan for this situation, then listen the fuck up because I’m making one right now. Those who are currently incapacitated or not yet fit for battle need to be protected.”

“What’s even happening,” Feferi exclaims.

You open your talk blaster but Sollux suddenly states, “We’re doomed.”

“Fuck you, not if I have anything to say about it,” you reflexively reply. Shit, this is bad though. What the _fuck_ is going on here? Is it an attack? Who would be stupid enough to try to attack the threshecutioner training compound?

“We have no time to waste, and no time to speculate,” you say mostly to the generals, “Just move to my orders as if we’re on a battlefield.”

Your fellow generals nod and when you turn to look at your threshecutioners, all of them look like they’re getting ready to fight. Including the goddamn newbies. You snarl and shout, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

One of them speaks up, “Martinet we can fight –”

“Absolutely not,” you cut in overtop of them, seeing that it’s Ceigis who spoke up. He’s a good fucking fighter, determined and stubborn. One of the trolls you think could be the flaysquad leader. “Do you understand the words ‘not yet fit for battle’? Because that means you assholes! You have not completed your training, you have not even been cleared for practicing with fake goddamn weapons! So, you all better back the fuck off and let the others protect you.”

Ceigis looks like he’s about to argue with you and you snap, “I will not listen to any disagreement on this! Follow my orders, soldier!”

With slight hesitation, Ceigis mutters, “Yes Martinet.”

You turn back around, the generals waiting for further orders, Sollux standing off to the side and muttering about doom, and Eridan and Feferi standing next to each other stiffly. Eridan looking like he’s debating joining the generals and Feferi looking fucking terrified.

You stifle a sigh and say, “Kindness, I request that you stay with those unable to fight. Duelfire, please stay with her. You’re the last line of defense and do not hesitate to retreat. If all else fails, our Empress cannot die. Do you understand?”

Eridan pauses before saying, “Yeah.”

“Alright, generals, guide those unable to fight to a more secure location,” you command. “Conference block two-I should be good. It is nearby Helmsman’s block, and someone needs to inform him of what is going on. What he does with the information is completely up to his personal discretion. You need to start moving as soon as possible.”

“Water boat you crab- Martinet,” Feferi whispers, gander bulbs wide and fins flat, almost not visible against her nugbone.

You equip your sickle, saying, “My threshecutioners and I will stay here and fight whatever or whoever comes.”

You pause before you pull out a prong-held broadcasting communication device, putting the nugbone listening devices on before speaking into it, “Attention all trolls aboard the threshecutioner training compound, we are currently on high alert. Currently four psionics known to have some ability to see into the future in some aspect, two of whom specifically can predict death or doom, have all reacted to an event that has yet to occur. I’m not going to lie to you. I have no idea what’s going on or what we should expect, but prepare for the worst. Potential hostiles may be coming to the training compound soon, and everyone needs to be prepared for attack. Proceed with upmost caution, travel in groups, and make your way to either the main training compound or to conference block two-I. Stay in contact with any updates. And I mean absolutely _any_ updates. You think you heard or saw something but aren’t sure? _Report the shit out of it_. Some psionic mentions something weird? _Report the shit out of it_. Absolutely anything, fuckers, do you understand me? We will fight to protect the Empress at all costs.”

You glance around the main training compound before saying, “Well, what the fuck are you all waiting for?”

“Well,” the familiar voice of Diwuri says, “if that’s the case. Figure you want to know about the spaceship coming in for docking? Looks like one of them clown ships. The one with like, purple rectangles or something?”

It takes you a moment before it occurs to you; from far away, the prongprints on Gamzee’s ship would probably look like rectangles.

“Fuck my life,” you spit out.

“Martinet, what do you want me to do,” Diwuri asks. “They’re about to dock –”

As if on cue, Bergis fucking _howls_ , equal parts fear and rage, and you hear Diwuri screaming over the prong-held communication device before his line goes silent.

“ _Get away from him_ ,” Bergis shrieks.

“Everyone, move, _now_ ,” you holler over Bergis as he continues to scream at nothing. Fucking chucklevoodoos, fucking sensitivity to psionics, fucking _fuck_. It’s Gamzee, you know its him, what the fuck is he _doing_ , what the fuck is he _thinking_ , shit fuck god damn it.

The group of trolls that need to be protected start to move, confused and scared as the generals guide them away, and you go over to Bergis, to see him snarling, his pistol aimed at nothing. His gander bulbs are enveloped by a pulsing purple light, and you’ve seen that before. When Gamzee was freaking out before you became moirails. You hadn’t been paying too much attention at first, having been walking away in hopes of getting some sleep, when suddenly you were violently dragged into a terrifying illusion. It didn’t take you long to know it was an illusion, since Feferi shrieked at the top of her fucking lungs, and that pulled you mostly out of your own delusion. What you saw when you looked around was fucking _chaos_.

Feferi was screaming near endlessly, prongs fisted in her hair in a wild panic as dismay fluid fell out her gander bulbs. Eridan was frozen still, prong twitching like he wanted to pull his weapon out, but he wouldn’t, breathing heavily. Equius was crumpled on the fucking floor, laying on his side in a wiggler curl as he sobbed quietly. Nepeta was clawing at the walls, trying to climb up or escape or _something_ , lips pulled back as far as they could go to show her teeth. Sollux’s psionics were firing off uncontrollably, his face blank of emotion, having a fucking helms overload, which would end _very badly_ if someone didn’t do something soon. Tavros was next to Gamzee, on his knees with his elbow supporting most of his weight, the prong of that arm pressed against his temple as his other prong reached out for Gamzee. Gamzee was just sitting, his knees up in front of his chest and his arms wrapped around his knees, quiet and still. At least, he was until Tavros’s prong got too close and he clawed the air between them with a snarl. Then with an almost physical slam, you were pulled back to another terror.

All of them had that same pulsing purple light enveloping their gander bulbs, including Gamzee.

Helmsman managed to get Sollux away from the fear psionics before anything too bad happened, although you have no idea how he knew what was going on, he came in and removed Sollux from the block with his psionics. Meanwhile, you started talking to Gamzee and trying to help him breathe more normally. At first, he would respond to your voice to look at you, panic and terror clear on his face even with the purple around his gander bulbs, before you felt another wave of terror that you had to fight against. Every time you managed to focus on Gamzee instead of your own fears, you would see that he was emotionless and still once again as the purple light pulsed around his gander bulbs. Eventually he seemed to gain control of it, because the waves of fear had stopped, no longer causing you to see terrors. But he still had this same pulsing purple light enveloping his gander bulbs for a while after you had stopped seeing terrors. You were more focused on trying to help as much as you were able. You had a fleeting suspicion about it from that encounter, and now, with the way Bergis is acting, you are almost certain this is what someone looks like when they are influenced by a purple blood’s psionics.

“Leave him alone, I swear to fuck I don’t care, I’ll kill you,” Bergis bellows, a vicious growl in his voice, and you have no idea what he’s seeing but you know you have to try to snap him out of it. “Don’t you _dare_ fucking touch him!”

“Bergis,” you say, trying to snap him out of it, having no idea if it'll work even in the slightest. “It’s not real, come on, I need you to move!”

In a sudden rush, a feeling of falling briefly, as fear sounds off like sirens in your pan. _I’m here_ , she whispers to you as the faint sensation of claws trail gently over your arms. _Danger, run, danger_ , your instincts tell you, but you’re bound and trapped. Her claws trail down the back of your neck, chills of fear make your body shake and you want to cry. With a familiar _crack_ , your back lights up in blinding pain as you scream, dismay fluid pouring down your face, she’s talking but it hurts so much you can’t hear anything but your own sobbing. _Pay attention_ , she snaps, the whip snapping with her voice. You’re going to bleed out and die –

A roaring sound pulls you out of the flashback, and you see that you had collapsed to your knees, your squeal pipette sore and dismay fluid trailing down your cheeks. You look to see Gamzee holding Zulkis by the collar of her armor, as dismay fluid runs down her face and she claws at his arms, trying to get his prongs off her in a futile, desperate struggle. She’s not even managing to wound him in her blind terror to escape, her gander bulbs enveloped in purple as Gamzee stares at her with a snarl on his face.

You quickly scrub the dismay fluid off your face as you stand, fronds shaky and pump biscuit racing, acting without thinking about it, “Gamzee!”

His roar cuts off and he drops Zulkis like she’s nothing, Zulkis scrambling away frantically, moving as quick as her unsteady limbs will let her. Gamzee turns to face you slowly, his gander bulbs as red as your blood, not a flicker of cognizance in any of his features. He looks at you emotionlessly, detached and callous, he might as well be looking through you. Your thorax clenches painfully, and you walk towards him wordlessly.

A rattling, snarling-growl leaves his squeal pipette, and a club appears in his prong. Your pump biscuit skips a beat, breath caught in your squeal pipette, prongs aching to touch and soothe him. He’s so different from that time when he was fighting against those trolls who attacked on that random planet. Back then, you saw a troll rip the nugbone off an enemy, before turning towards you and your opponent, gander bulbs blood red just like now. He glanced at both you and the other troll, before his expression flared with anger when he saw the other troll. He knew you weren’t his enemy. Now, there is no anger, or well, the anger is directionless. He doesn’t seem to realize who you are, that you’re not his enemy. He’s preparing to face you down and kill every last one of you all. You feel breathless, the desire to calm him overwhelming you, remembering his smiles and laughter as pity pulses through your veins slowly.

You don’t stop walking towards him, your voice going smooth and quiet, the soft fondness in your own voice surprising you to a small degree, “Gamzee, come on, snap out of it.”

He doesn’t respond in the least as claws rake down your chest and blood runs down your skin, but you ignore it, focusing only on Gamzee. His gander bulbs aren’t enveloped in purple this time, and you wonder why as you hear the timbre of her voice, not understanding any words, just the knowledge that she is talking. You ignore every part of your body screaming to pay attention to her.

“I know you don’t really want to hurt anyone,” you tell him softly, and you can tell that your voice is doing that auditory soothing that you’ve heard Gamzee use.

“You ain’t know _shit_ you motherfucking heathen,” he screams back, starling you a little bit. You suddenly remember how he can move quicker than you can see, and for a brief second you freeze as panic takes control, the fear of him killing you making a part of you beg for you to just _run_.

You grit your teeth and take a steadying breath, yes, you’re afraid, you won’t lie. But Gamzee can also manipulate fears. You’re not as afraid as his psionics are making you feel, and even if you are afraid, you trust him. So, you stare him down for a moment, see him standing still. Finding determination through your fear is easy.

You walk forward despite your fear, knowing he can feel it, seeing him snarl in response to your continued movement. He disappears, and you draw your sickle, barely having enough time to block his club as it swings for your nugbone. His fangs are fully bared as he makes a rattling snarl-growl and you hold your ground against him. You know he’ll pull back and attack again if you don’t do something quickly, not to mention you might not be so lucky with blocking next time.

You use your free prong to gently grab the inside of his elbow. He starts, about to pull back, but you return your sickle to your strife deck and pap his cheek firmly. He blinks rapidly, confusion on his face before he shakes his nugbone and soundlessly snarls again. A strange calm takes over you as you pap his cheek repetitively, and you see him slowly respond; a loosening of his stance before he tenses back up, a softening to his expression that’ll go back to rigid anger, like his rage is faltering and he has to stop to remember that he’s angry.

“Sh,” you speak softly, wondering if your soothing voice is making Gamzee’s skin tingle, like his does to you, “shoosh.”

His arm briefly flexes where you’re still holding it, you stroke and pap his cheek calmly, “Shoosh, shh Gamzee, sh.”

Your pump biscuit is still hammering anxiously, your thorax feels constricted, breathing is a little difficult, but you know that’s just the after effects of your panic and his psionics. Your body might be telling you that you should be terrified, but your emotions tell you that you are _safe_. You are safe, and you pity him so fucking _much_. You let go of his arm, so you can pap his chest as you stroke his face. His gander bulbs flutter, before he finally focuses on your face.

He blinks a few times, slowly opening his talk blaster, but you hush him, “Sh, just shhh.”

The red in his gander bulbs finally begins to shift slowly, the hostility in him easing, his breathing beginning to go quiet and slow.

“There we go,” you murmur in the soothing tone, glad that you seem able to control it. “Calm down, it’s just me.”

He makes a quiet sound, almost sounding like a honk, his gander bulbs still orange but getting closer to yellow.

You cup both your palms over his cheeks, firm as you tell him, “Shoosh.”

You see a faint shiver go through his body and you stroke one cheek while papping the other, softly talking to him, “You were blind raging, right?”

He slowly blinks, and you go on, “It’s fine, shit happens. Good thing I’m here to calm you down.”

Gamzee’s talk blaster moves and an unintelligible sound comes out, and you raise an eyebrow at him, firmly papping both his cheeks at the same time. He shudders and closes his gander bulbs as you tease him gently, “Shush, jeez, such a hassle. Can’t you see that I’m trying to calm you down?”

He opens his gander bulbs halfway, gander bulbs back to yellow as he purrs and smiles warmly at you. Your diamond rolls over and surrenders itself as you quietly ask him, “Feeling better now?”

He honks quietly, and you can’t help but snort, endeared by his strange mannerisms.

“You are so helpful Gamzee,” you tell him sarcastically, “I’m so fucking amazed by your ability to so fully communicate everything you want to say so effectively. I’m shaking as I kneel before the throne of your vast mastery of the Alternian language.”

Gamzee laughs softly and slurs out, “I try m’bes’.”

You smile at him affectionately and say, “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

Gamzee’s purr gets that loud familiar rattling in response. You grab his prong in yours and go to walk away, only to realize that everyone from earlier is still gathered around hallway two, shocked silent, either from fear or from watching you. Your face burns up, and you squeeze Gamzee’s prong tighter before you start marching your way to hallway four, simultaneously daring anyone to say shit and desperately hoping they leave you alone. Gamzee doesn’t even seem to spare a single thought or care as you walk past them all, to the point that you almost wonder if he even noticed them, but you know him better than that.

You make it to your block with no one stopping or interrupting you, and you go in and lock the door behind you both before pushing him into the pile as gently as you can. You take a moment to go through all your communication devices, turning them off so you don’t have to deal with anyone bothering you once they get themselves together.

When you look at Gamzee, he’s still smiling and purring, unwound as he lays leisurely on the pile. You go towards him, brushing your fingers against his face, before climbing onto his lap with a bit of hesitancy. His purr goes loud again, and you laugh softly, the hesitancy you had banishing itself at his warm reception.

“Okay,” you start quietly. “Before we go any further, I’m going to ask what the hell you were raging about.”

There’s no pause as his purr warps into a growl and he mutters, “Goddamn heretics and their wild motherfucking profanations, one sacrilegious belief is the same as any other in the end, but Messiah’s _damn them_ –”

You pap his cheek once when he suddenly shouts, and Gamzee blinks before saying quietly, “Sorry. I ain’t meant to shout in your face like that. Just, we finally figured out what all was up with them damned heretics and I got mighty motherfucking pissed about it. Was angry enough as I knew seeing at you would be a good idea, but six hours up on in space with not but my own rage weren’t no balm to my anger. Can’t recall when exact I got blind with it, but yeah.”

Gamzee shrugs and you say, “Next time maybe send me a message first? I could have at least attempted to help you stay moderately calm until you got here, first off. Secondly, you caused a ridiculous chain reaction of psionics flipping out and everyone, including myself, got ready for an attack on the training compound.”

Gamzee frowns and asks, “What, why?”

You hesitate before saying, “All the psionics who were flipping out had some ability to look into the future. And all of them were seeing blood and death.”

Gamzee opens his talk blaster, closes it, then says, “Oh.”

Then he grins and says, “But you all got to stopping me best friend, and damn if that ain’t felt good for me.”

Your face goes warm and you push your prong against his face slightly as you say, “Okay, your speaking rights have been revoked on grounds of overindulgent romantic hoofbeastmanure.”

He chuckles and asks, “How is one thing overindulging?”

“I just fucking publicly shoosh papped you,” you exclaim. “Also, it was the first time I got to seriously shoosh pap _anyone_ , and you were in a blind rage or whatever. Excuse fucking me for finding that romantic, I guess! And for being overwhelmed with pity that I was able to fucking calm you down, I mean it’s not as if clowns like you are notorious for unstoppable rages, asshole.”

Gamzee smirks and says, “We are, my brother, so it must all be a miracle of the purest degree, as you were able to soothe me. Experiencing my rage being truly soothed by the shooshes and paps as my palest brother had to offer. Felt tranquil and sleepy as fuck, wouldn’t mind that feeling happening every night.”

“Didn’t I fucking tell you that your speaking had been revoked,” you spit out, feeling your face burn at hearing him say all that.

Gamzee purrs quietly and closes his gander bulbs, satisfied and serene. You stop covering his face in favor of gently stroking it, and Gamzee purrs louder as you do so. Both of you just rest together in the silence, content and peaceful as you gently touch his face and he purrs loudly.

After a while, he opens one gander bulb slightly and asks quietly, “You think as we’ll ever get that fairytale happy ending, my brother?”

You frown and don’t stop caressing him as you ask, “Where the fuck is this coming from?”

He opens his other gander bulb and explains, “Seems as like there’s always some shit to do, war and strife and heretics. Think there could all be some point in our life as we can just fucking be together without worrying on some other stressful shit as ain’t fully in our control?”

“No,” you reply at once. Gamzee pouts at you and you hiss, “Oh, come on, I’m not going to say some pointless hoofbeastmanure just to make you feel better. Shit happens, trolls like having reasons to fight and someone to fight _against_. Even if we do get to a point where the Empire is mostly peaceful within itself, there’s always going to be something that we’ll have to keep us busy and stressed out. You and all those fucking carnivals you love ranting about, that’s are enough of a thing to keep you busy, and I have all the diplomacy hoofbeastmanure that drives me up the fucking wall. There’s no such thing as a storybook happy ending in real life Gamzee, everything in life is imperfect, but what matters isn’t finding the perfect and impossible conclusion where we can just fade off into a black screen like the movies. What’s important is finding our little slice of imperfection that makes us happy for as long as we live. And you know fucking what, I don’t know about you, but I think.”

You stop and look away, face getting hot as you mutter, “I think I’ve found a piece of happy imperfection here with you.”

Gamzee blinks rapidly, dismay fluid suddenly spilling out of his gander bulbs, making you flinch slightly, but he shakily says, “Yeah. Yeah, my brother. Think that’s a truth as I can be straight up behind with agreeing at.”

“Oh,” you reply blankly. Then you hug him tightly and say, “I’m pale as moonlight for you Gamzee.”

Gamzee hugs you back and sniffles quietly before whispering, “Through the grand voyage of life might all surely be as flawed as the mortals which be living them, and truly as whimsically unpredictable as the Messiahs themselves, you all bring me an unexpected yet welcome amount of contentment, and long as you have want or need of me, I will be here for you. Dearest diamond, better half and purest pity, I’m pale as motherfucking stardust for you.”


	17. Chapter 17

You squeeze your gander bulbs before opening them and blinking the bleariness out of your vision. Gamzee is holding you closely, his face slack as he breathes deeply in his sleep. You smile warmly at him and purr, brushing his hair back behind his auricular shell. Gamzee shifts and grumbles, squinting his gander bulbs open with a frown.

He looks at you and sighs softly, smiling and murmuring, “Was’ up m’ bro?”

“Nothing,” you say quietly. “I just woke up and was fondly regarding you as you slept. Sorry for waking you.”

Gamzee laughs, low and slow, saying, “Ain’t no trouble, seeing as I now get to enjoy your presence all consciously, and I do so motherfucking adore your company.”

Your face goes warm and you roll your gander bulbs at his sappiness, ignoring the fact that you’re grinning despite your best efforts to seem unimpressed.

“For some reason beyond my own understanding, I enjoy your company as well,” you say while smiling.

Gamzee snorts and mutters, “Have I mentioned as I really fucking like hearing you say shit as sounds close to religious, even though I know what you don’t believe? I all see it as a funny as fuck ironic miracle.”

You sigh and say, “And you continue to be a weird devout blood fanatic. I just had to fall pale for a clown. A fucking _clown_ , some of the most unpredictable raging terrors in the Empire.”

Gamzee laughs and says, “It’s a Messiahs given miracle, quadrants and them emotions as come all unexpected in ways you thought would not to be happening ever before, motherfucking praise. Messiahs be always looking for ways to make a joke out of things, ‘cause after all what is life if you ain’t enjoying the ride?”

“Yeah, well, try to turn this into some religious thing,” you pause to see Gamzee smile eagerly and you _almost_ feel bad for the challenge. “We’re going to have to talk to all the generals and Feferi.”

Gamzee grimaces, glances away, then looks at you and flatly says, “Jokes can be cruel sometimes. Especially the Messiahs’ jokes.”

You hesitate, deciding to just let him have that one, before asking, “You think you can handle the utterly shit-tastic entertaining hoofbeastmanure of trying to talk sense into multiple trolls of vastly differing opinions? You could even say this is my fucking bullshit circus of frustration and annoying assholes.”

Gamzee laughs a little nervously, asking, “Do I have a true choice?”

“You know I won’t force you,” you reply. “So, yes, technically, you are fully capable of deciding to just like, hide up in the goddamn fucking vents again, or something. How the fuck did you not get your dumb ass stuck, by the way?”

“According to educator Gimnas, it was all having to be a motherfucking miracle,” Gamzee answers cheerfully.

“Right, of course, in hindsight I don’t even know why I asked,” you say. You sigh and change the subject back to your original point, “Any who, seriously. I’m not going to make you come to the conference. Most likely everyone’s going to have very loud and very intrusive opinions on what happened yesternight. I hardly think anyone _expects_ you to be there, so if you want to avoid it, go ahead. At least _one_ of us won’t have to suffer through it.”

“Nah, I’ll all accompany you,” Gamzee says. You glare at him slightly and he laughs as he says, “What’s that look all for? I’m all being honest and serious. You all said as they’ll be to start shit about yesternight, and that was my fault, so I figure I got to take some responsibility in of this.”

You snort and ask, “What the hell crawled up your nook and made you decide to be responsible for once?”

Gamzee gently cups your cheek with his prong, his thumb stroking your face softly, purring quietly and smiling tenderly before he places his forehead against yours in a soft headbutt, whispering gently to you and making shivers go down your spine, “Found the one troll what I want to stick to in this quadrant, with you. Want you truly on my motherfuckin own, in officialness clear and honest, no unclarity or uncertainty in my pan over that. You be my _best friend_ Karkat, so like hell I’d leave you alone to defend our diamond on your lonesome. So, I’ll be by your side and ready to fight if I all need to, both in literal and metaphorical ways.”

You scoff, even as warm affection makes you smile happily as you say, “Considering that you flipping out was what caused this, maybe you should just try to appear as benign as possible.”

“I’ll be as benign as shit if that’s what you need,” Gamzee says, pulling away to press a prong against his chest, the other still resting idly on your cheek. He smirks and says, “I just want to stay by your side all supportive, so however you find need for me, I’ll do my best to help as I know how.”

“I appreciate the backup,” you tell him honestly, and Gamzee grins and purrs in response.

After a moment, Gamzee blinks and stops purring like he suddenly remembered something, his prong dropping from your face as he frowns. He hesitates before whispering, “I just recalled some shit as from when I was all blind with rage. I all felt you get fear on real loud. I, just wanted to say, I’m sorry.”

You blink a few times, then laugh slightly, smiling at him, “It’s okay. It wasn’t anything.”

Gamzee scowls and says, “So that sharp stab of fear all up into my pan matter was nothing? Am I expected to all pretend as I didn’t feel that motherfucking distress, straight to my soul like a siren as was pitched just for me, to make anguish ring high-pitched and excruciating? ‘Cause if you ain’t want to speak on about it, I suppose I could abide for a time, but Karkat, don’t motherfucking expect for me to pretend as I don’t know I fucking screwed up and terrified you while blind raging.”

You frown, thinking about how he once told you he can’t see the terrors he causes. He might have been lying at the time. You hope it was one of the things he was being truthful about, while a selfish part of you says that it would make talking about your past _so much easier_.

“No,” you say finally with a sigh. “I don’t expect for you to pretend you didn’t, sense that, or whatever. I won’t lie to you Gamzee, you freaked me out for a second there. Seeing you getting ready to attack me with your club, it made me remember how you can seemingly disappear and reappear, in the blink of a gander bulb. That was frightening, and your mind-fuckery made my fear worst, but it was only for a second. Which is why I say it was nothing. It wasn’t important to me, it still isn’t.”

You look away and continue, “I think I’d have to be stupid to forget how dangerous you are, so having a bit of fear is reasonable. The important part is I walked towards you, not away. I trusted in our connection, in our moirallegiance. I trusted you, and I trusted that I could calm you.”

You look back at him and ask, “Do you really have a problem with that?”

Gamzee stares at you for a second before glancing away, his auricular fin going purple, mumbling, “Not when you all go at explaining it that way.”

He looks back to you and says, “Still don’t mean I gotta like as I scared at you.”

“As long as you know that a little fear isn’t going to chase me away,” you respond with an easy smile.

Gamzee chuckles and says quietly, “Good to know best friend.”

You sit up and say, “Well, now that we have that settled, let’s get a move on. The quicker we get this over with, the better.”

You climb off the pile and turn all your electronics back on, only to be assaulted by tons of missed messages. You groan and ignore the ones from your hatefriends for now, looking through the ones from the threshecutioners only to see that most of them are saying ‘about time’, ‘finally’, ‘congratulations’, ‘have fun’, and ‘relax for once’. You ignore those as best as you can, while heat rises to your face. A few of them talk about how the trolls who were freaking out yesternight are feeling better now, so that’s good to hear.

“So where exact the fuck we be headed my brother,” Gamzee asks.

You sigh, still ignoring your hatefriends as you put your electronics back in your sylladex, saying, “Let’s go to the central area of the training compound. For some reason, even though we have several blocks set up _just_ for meeting up, a lot of assholes seem to think it’s a meeting hub. Even though it really isn’t meant to be used like that.”

Gamzee snorts, “Aight my bro, lead the way.”

You grumble as you lead the way, not looking forward to all the hoofbeastmanure you’re about to tread directly into. After a minute or so of walking, Gamzee grabs your prong with his, and you glance back to see him not looking at you, his auricular fin flushed purple. You look forward again, squeezing his prong in yours firmly. This pitiful wreck is your moirail, and anyone who has a fucking problem with it can complain to your goddamn _sickle_ , because you aren’t leaving him.

Soon enough, you reach the central area where, lo and behold, a group of trolls awaits. You notice that it’s not just the generals and Feferi, everyone else is here again. Fucking. Wonderful.

You straighten up, muttering, “Here we go.”

You march forward, not letting go of Gamzee’s prong. Once you get close enough, Feferi notices you first, calling out, “Fin-ally!”

Gamzee releases your prong and you cross your arms over your chest as you growl out, “Yeah, I’m sure you all missed me like a blistering sore on your ass.”

“Martinet,” Terezi greets you with a wide toothy grin as she walks up to you and you frown. She wants something. She walks up into your personal space, tapping her cane on the floor between you both at the end of her sentences for dramatic effect. “I do not believe everyone here has met! The court requests some proper introductions!”

You sigh and glance at Gamzee, muttering, “Grand Pulpiteer, religious head of the subjugglators and laughsassins.”

You gesture to Terezi and continue, “Newcomer Redflame, aspiring Head Legislacerator.”

“Oh,” Terezi mock-coos, “using our titles, how debonair!”

“You said proper greeting, not personal,” you tell her flatly, not wanting any part of whatever dumb plot she hatched up. “Now please step out of my personal space.”

Terezi frowns and takes a step back, before grinning sharply again and announcing, “Sorry, I didn’t see how close we were!”

She cackles at her own stupid joke, Gamzee asking, “What’s so funny?”

You slap a prong against your forehead. She planned that, didn’t she? Was her standing too close part of that dumbass thing she just did? Did you play into her bullshit by trying not to play into her bullshit? THIS IS WHY YOU HATE DEALING WITH HER. She’s worse than _Vriska_ when it comes to manipulating trolls, and Vriska can literally control other trolls’ minds!

Predictably, Terezi answers, “I didn’t see, because I’m blind!”

She cackles more and Gamzee mutters, “That, ain’t even really funny.”

“My blindness really just levels the playing field,” she says smugly, seeming to ignore Gamzee. “No one would have any chance if I had normal vision.”

You roll your gander bulbs and turn to Gamzee, saying, “Don’t let her get under your skin. It’s probably what she’s counting on.”

Terezi turns in the direction of Gamzee, stepping just a bit closer, but staying clear of his personal space. You really hope she doesn’t try to start back up with that overbearing hatefriendliness like when you two were young. You had thought there was an unspoken agreement between you both, about how neither of you were comfortable with that. She says to him, “On a much more serious note. My name is Terezi Pyrope and I assure you, it’s your pleasure to meet me!”

Gamzee doesn’t respond for a minute, and when he does it’s a toneless, “What’s the difference between a legislacerator and an onion?”

You blink, turning to stare at Gamzee. Is he fucking serious? Terezi scowls, “Huh?”

“Dismay fluid comes out your gander bulbs when you cut up an onion,” Gamzee says. Terezi startles slightly, while Gamzee smirks and chuckles. “Now that, motherfuckin sinner, is a good joke.”

“I swear to fuck I’m going to scream,” you say, putting your face in your prongs, because he fucking _seriously_ just did that. You mutter to yourself, “Why can’t anything ever be easy, why can’t I get a fucking break.”

“Aww, sorry best friend,” Gamzee mutters. “I ain’t trying to make this any kind of hassle on you.”

You drop your prongs and stare at him, absolutely unimpressed as he grins at you nervously, like a grub caught doing something he was told not to do. You look towards the others without saying anything to him, figuring that your look had been sufficient enough, and say, “Anyhow, can we get on with this already?”

Kanaya steps forward with a polite smile as she says, “Actually, I would like to have an introduction as well, if that is not too much to ask for.”

You shrug, looking to Gamzee and saying, “Come meet my good hatefriend. She’s a beacon of sanity and rationality among my other hatefriends, and I don’t get to see her much.”

Kanaya laughs softly, asking, “A shining light, huh? I suppose I can understand the comparison.”

Gamzee walks closer, Terezi avoiding him with a frown as Kanaya looks up at him, saying, “I am Kanaya Maryam, or the Clothier if you so prefer.”

“You can all call me by Grand Pulpiteer as my brother so kindly introduced me as,” he says easily, “or Gamzee Makara.”

Kanaya smiles, showing her fangs, and you see Gamzee twitch slightly, as she extends her prong towards him and says, “A pleasure.”

Gamzee stares at her prong for a second and you nudge him slightly, telling him, “You’re supposed to shake her hand, dumb ass.”

Gamzee grabs her prong carefully, looking confused as Kanaya shakes it briefly before letting go. He shrugs after it’s done, saying, “Nice to meet at you as well, I suppose. Seems you go by she?”

“That is correct,” Kanaya says. Then she smirks and asks, “Should I therefore assume you go by dumb ass?”

Gamzee laughs as you hiss at her, “Don’t be an asshole, Kanaya!”

“Spoken from the talk blaster of a bonified saint, I presume,” Kanaya replies slyly, and Gamzee laughs even louder, bending over as he does so.

Fucking shit, you forgot how much of a flighty broad she can be, and Gamzee is certainly _not_ fucking helping, “You’re both fucking horrible trolls and I hate you both.”

Gamzee grins up at you, saying through his laughter, “It’s fucking _funny_ though, my brother.”

You grumble and glare at him, cheeks prickling with embarrassment as you mutter, “Bulge-chafing chucklefuck.”

“And _I’m_ Pirateer Venomous Mindfang,” Vriska says, interrupting a moment that she’s not welcome in, as is usual for her, strutting herself forward.

Kanaya scowls at her and you grimace, saying, “Yeah, don’t bother with this self-satisfied bitch. She’s not worth the time for introducing yourself.”

“Hey,” Vriska exclaims, extending the vowel to the usual annoying degree. “I’m the leader of the Gamblignants! The fiercest pirates and thieves on Alternia! I have a huge mass of wealth and treasures! I am incredibly important!”

Ignoring her completely, you say, “So which one of you fucks is going to start complaining? I know you guys too fucking well, and it’s bound to come up eventually, so let’s just get it over with here and fucking now.”

After a moment, it’s Nepeta who speaks up, “When the hell did _this_ ,” she gestures towards you and Gamzee with a disgusted look, “happen?”

“It’s not really any of your damned business,” you tell her bluntly. She growls quietly when you pause, and you look to Gamzee as you say, “It’s been almost three perigees since we got together though, hasn’t it?”

Gamzee blinks, then a slow, soft smile appears as he mumbles, “Yeah, yeah, guess it has been.”

Nepeta grumbles and crosses her arms over her chest, muttering, “I’ve had a suspicion fur a little while now, but I wasn’t certain. I didn’t expect fur it to have been three purr-igees ago.”

She huffs unhappily, seeming discontent but not saying anything more. If anyone knows about having a moirail that no one understands why you’re in a relationship with them, it’s her.

“I won’t attempt to tell you how to pick your quadrants,” Equius says in a tone that implies he clearly has more to say.

“Good, then don’t,” you snap, stopping him from continuing. He grunts and fortunately takes your hint with moderate grace. You won’t deal with any of them trying to pull that crap.

“Personally,” Vriska starts, “I –”

“A-shoal-ly,” Feferi speaks over her with a cheery tone.

Vriska bristles and yells, “Hey!”

“I had no idea this was going on, but I reel-ly don’t think there is any issue with the two of you being in a relation-ship,” Feferi goes on like Vriska isn’t even there.

“Would you stop ignoring me,” Vriska screams.

Terezi sighs and walks over to her as Feferi goes on, “I’m happy for you both! That being said, I do think that there are betta waves to inform otters of your new quadrant. A nerve-racking public shoosh pap out of a highblood rage is dramatic, shore, but come on buoys! You scared a lot of trolls!”

Aradia laughs and says, “I’m also happy for you both! I wasn’t here for it, but I’m sure it was exciting! The ghosts told me you too should meet, and I guess they were right once again!”

“Yes, because that was so a planned thing,” you mutter mostly to yourself.

“I was not present for the apparent highblood rage,” Terezi speaks calmly, still looking at Vriska. “And quadrants aren’t something I can, or will, judge. So I have no opinion one way or another. Also, there are more important things which must be discussed, and I would much rather we get to that as soon as possible.”

Kanaya smiles pleasantly and says, “I must admit, when Karkat first started talking about the clowns, I inferred that he was in a relationship with a purple. Though I was not aware of the details or anything, I thought it was fairly common knowledge and simply never said anything, due to knowing that Karkat is a very private troll when it comes to these matters. That all being said, you are both adults who are fully capable of making your own choices, and there are other pressing matters to consider at the time. I am glad you both seem to be in a happy relationship, however, quadrant gossip is secondary at the moment.”

Heat warms your cheeks and you say, “Thanks for the congratulations, I fucking guess. But also fuck you, you need to mind your own business.”

“I don’t even sea why we’re discussing this,” Eridan mutters. “You two aren’t going to stop even if we _do_ have a problem with it, so there’s no reel point to this. That bein said, congrats you guys. It’s a-boat fuckin time you both found a damned moirail, sea-riously.”

“I, uh, honestly thought that this was just a rescheduling of the other conference meeting,” Tavros mumbles. “I had no idea we were going to be talking to you both about your quadrant. Seems pretty pointless, like Eridan said. Also, it was kind of obvious that you were together, since you suddenly started defending Gamzee all the time. Which, you never really do, for anyone. So yeah.”

Gamzee turns to look at you at what Tavros said, but before you can say anything in reply, Sollux uses his psionics to float over to you. He drops to stand in front of you before snarling out, “That’s it. I’ve fucking had it, I am _done_. You are beyond fucking stupid, this is beyond fucking senseless, I am ending this garbage. What the _hell_ is your problem? You’re so much better than this KK! What are you fucking thinking?”

You bare your fangs and snarl right back, “What the hell is _your_ problem? Would you mind enlightening me to what the big fucking deal is? If everyone else can butt out, why can’t you?”

“This asshole is a clear fucking danger to everyone,” Sollux exclaims with a gesture towards Gamzee, his psionics sparking briefly. “He literally threatened FF and I both, yet when he said he wouldn’t attack, you just took him for his goddamn word? Then when he did whatever the _fuck_ he did with the other purples, you just accepted that it meant they all wouldn’t attack?”

“I was fucking _there_ ,” you snap out, lowering your arms and fisting your prongs. “I heard what he said to them. So yeah, it was pretty easy to accept that they wouldn’t attack, considering that I _literally_ just heard him tell them not to. What the _actual fuck_ Sollux, why aren’t you trusting me on this?”

Psionics flare up, sparking around Sollux’s horns and gander bulbs as he shouts, “He’s one of them!”

You growl defensively as Sollux goes on, “Why the hell would he side with us, for any fucking reason? Why would you _trust_ him, in any aspect?”

“Why I trust him is none of your damned business,” you slowly announce through your growl, fangs bared at Sollux, claws itching to hurt him for how he’s insulting you, your moirail, and your moirallegiance. You will _not_ tolerate this shit from fucking _anybody_.

“How do you know that he’s not just tricking you,” Sollux asks and you see Gamzee go tense, but you barely pay attention as a loud snarling growl exits your squeal pipette, because how fucking _dare_ , “he could be stringing you along or deceiving you –”

You deck him in his stupid fucking face as hard as you can, pissed beyond fucking rational thought, and he stumbles from your force. He falls on his ass as you spit out, “Fucking dare to say that to my face again motherfucker!”

Sollux’s nose is bleeding slightly, and he wipes it messily, turning to spit some blood that got in his mouth out. He looks at you, sneering with his fangs as he says, “Fucking hell KK, I can’t believe _this_ is what makes you get pissed enough to hit me.”

Your pan reels for a second, because _what_ , your talk blaster falling open as rage and hatred burns in your veins. You are further outraged at what he’s implying, and you were already angry beyond fucking reason, so you just shout, “Fucking _what_.”

Sollux smirks, his psionics quickly picking you up and tossing you back a little bit. You bare your teeth as you land clumsily on your knees and prongs, a loud snarl in your thorax as you bark out, “Fuck. You.”

“For a so-called romance expert, you sure suck at catching a fucking hint,” Sollux retorts.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you shriek. “Next time you try to black flirt, be less of an uncultured pile of rotting shit and maybe I might actually take you as a serious rival! Until then, get the fuck over yourself!”

Sollux snarls at that and you stand, making a cutting motion with your arm and saying, “I would also suggest not dragging my damned moirallegiance through the mud just to try to piss me off again. That shit will make me platonically hate you quicker than you can process information, you doomed binary husk.”

Sollux goes a little yellow, hissing, “It wasn’t just to piss you off, asshole! I was mostly just fucking around before and teasing you because I had another one of my fleeting god damn black crushes on you, but this shit is the last fucking straw! I know you’re better than this!”

Suddenly Gamzee’s arm loops around your shoulders, and he lightly taps your chest a couple of times, making you calm down enough that you don’t feel like you’re one breath away from fucking mauling Sollux. Gamzee speaks calmly, “You all ain’t got no right to be saying any kind of shit over who all he decides to be quadrants with, so you best get to shutting the fuck up on that.”

Sollux stands, snarling and spitting out, “Why fucking should we?”

Gamzee laughs once, short and mocking, saying, “My bro just up and done told you, motherfucker. He’ll hate you platonic for spouting that noise at him. Ain’t you listen at a motherfuckin thing as he says? You ain’t gonna win his spade this way.”

Then he turns to look around at everyone, saying, “If you heathen motherfuckers be done with being pieces of shit to my brother and I, except you Maryam, you were pretty motherfucking chill about everything. But if you others be done with all this tasteless unjoyful noise as like you got a right to be judging my brother and his decisions, all prying around for his secrets and emotions as you ain’t got no motherfucking right to do, asking at after things as ain’t your motherfucking _business_. I believe some of you went to mention at other shit as actually needs spoke on about? Ain’t we should do that?”


	18. Chapter 18

You’re in your respiteblock, sitting with your knees up and your prongs in your hair, next to your recuperacoon, biting on your lip as dismay fluid runs down your cheeks. You don’t want to remember why you’re here. You don’t want to think about how you were just in a conference meeting with all your hatefriends and Gamzee. You don’t want to remember how Terezi had jokingly used that old fucking pet name of hers, the one she used to describe the scent of your blood color. You want to forget how you had stood up and walked out of the block, without any fucking warning or word. You don’t want to remember, but the word ‘cherries’ is repeating inside your nugbone and you. You don’t know what you feel, but it’s certainly not good.

You hear your door open and you jolt, your pump biscuit leaping into your squeal pipette, as a familiar voice calls out, “Karkat?”

Gamzee. It’s just Gamzee. You exhale shakily, relieved even if your alarm remains. You’re in your respiteblock, you gave him a key to your block a while ago. He must have followed you when you walked off, and let himself in. You’re in your respiteblock, your recuperacoon still nearby and your desk off against the other wall. You’re in your respiteblock and it’s just Gamzee.

Gamzee opens the door to your respiteblock, making you jump slightly, even though you _know_ it’s just him and you’re safe in your block. Paranoia, while it _can_ be _somewhat_ useful in a fight, is a bitch in your personal life. He walks in while you’re trying to remind yourself that you’re somewhere safe, you’re fucking _safe_ , you’re just in your goddamn respiteblock, calm the fuck down.

He walks up and sits beside you, legs stretched out on the floor and turned towards you slightly as he says, “Hey there my brother.”

“No,” you blurt out, then cover your talk blaster with your prongs because _clearly_ , it’s going to say whatever the fuck it wants to right now.

There’s a pause before Gamzee turns towards you more, extending his prong towards you, shivers going down your spine as he whispers, “I’m here for you Karkat.”

You hesitate before grabbing his prong and pulling yourself towards him. He wraps his arms around you as you hide against his chest, his prongs rubbing your back as dismay fluid blurs your vision. He softly shooshes you as you babble randomly, “Cherries. I’m not, I’m not cherries. I’m not. I don’t taste like cherries. My blood is not cherries. It’s not. It’s not. I’m not.”

“You ain’t,” he mutters back to you, and you choke over a sob, gripping onto his shirt tightly as you bury your face in his chest. “Ain’t even a thing you could be my brother. Don’t make no sense. That legislacerator bitch ain’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. She’s just another unfunny heathen, don’t pay her no mind my diamond.”

You laugh sharply, shaking your nugbone as you say, “It’s hers. It was hers first. She was the first to say it, and it didn’t bother me. I mean, it kind of freaked me out, but I didn’t mind. Don’t mind. Or maybe I do, I don’t fucking know. It’s not her saying it that bothers me. It’s not her.”

“You still ain’t like it regardless,” he says, “and she still up and said it all uncaring at that.”

“I never fucking told her,” you shout, then laugh breathlessly, saying, “I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t want to think about it. I, I didn’t, I don’t –”

“Shoosh best friend, hush now,” Gamzee says, making you shudder slightly as you try to get even closer to him, even though that’s basically impossible at this stage. “Ain’t gotta tell no one nothing. Calm down some, you’re safe with me Karkat.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out half a sob. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t get it, he has no idea what the fuck is wrong with you right now, and you can’t fucking tell him yet. You can’t. You can’t tell him right now despite how much you trust him, and you fucking hate yourself for it.

When your pan says that you’re a dumbass who doesn’t deserve him, you can’t think of a rebuttal to make it shut up or prove it wrong, but you aren’t going to leave him. Your pan whispers he’ll eventually see that you’re not worth his time and then he’ll kick you out of his quadrant, but you just fucking ignore it.

You breathe unevenly, mumbling against his chest, “I should. I should tell you. I want to tell you. Eventually.”

Gamzee kisses the top of your nugbone and says, “Then I’ll hear it eventually. No need for rush, 'specially not with you still so much in fear, so relax and all let me take care at you.”

You laugh softly, not really sure why you’re laughing, face pressed against his chest as your dismay fluid soaks his shirt. Gamzee purrs and hums quietly, still soothing his prongs over your back. As your pan slowly dials down it’s terror, you notice that your breathing is matching his, and your pump biscuit is slowing down to be more like the easy tempo of his. After a long while of slowly calming down, you close your gander bulbs and let yourself rest, pan feeling a bit numb from the rush of fear and adrenaline. The numb doesn’t last very long at all with Gamzee still soothing you, and eventually you feel at peace, opening your gander bulbs and sighing out as the tension drains from your body.

Gamzee nuzzles against you and asks in a gentle murmur, “How you doing? Feel any better now?”

You do, and you don’t. Fuck are you tired. You hum, muttering back, “Better than I was. Thanks.”

Gamzee strokes your nugbone and says, “No need to thank me, I’m just glad I could help.”

You chuckle slightly, pulling back to look at him, hesitating before mumbling, “Should I bother saying sorry? I feel like I need to say sorry.”

“No,” Gamzee says, papping your cheek firmly before stroking it. “Only apology I want to hear is from that teal bitch.”

You snort, glancing away and muttering, “It’s, it’s really, _really_ not Terezi’s fault. She does it because of how she sees through scent. It didn’t bother me when I was six. I never told her I didn’t like it anymore. I thought I could deal with it.”

You chew on your lip a little before mumbling, “Obviously I was wrong.”

Gamzee hums softly, still stroking your face. You hesitate, struggling as you force out, “Someone else. Said it. And I.”

Gamzee’s prong paps you decisively and he says, “Don’t force it. I’d rather wait then you tell me unwilling. You understand me motherfucker?”

You huff and pout, grumbling, “Yeah, yeah. I fucking guess.”

“No guessing here,” Gamzee says. “I’m all telling you. Don’t. Motherfucking. Make yourself. Do nothing. You gonna listen at your moirail or not?”

You scowl and glare at him slightly, saying, “I’m goddamn listening, you asshole, why are you fucking pushing this so much?”

Gamzee squints at you and says, “If I don’t, then you’ll try to do it anyway. ‘Cause you’re motherfucking stubborn.”

You groan because he’s right, then you ask, “Can we talk about something else then? If we stay on the subject I may just end up wallowing in shitty memories and thoughts, and then I can’t promise that I won’t say something that I. Want to say but am still not fully ready to talk about.”

Gamzee smiles and says, “Sure my brother. Any idea upon you of what you want for to speak at?”

You blink a few times before thinking of something, saying, “Tell me about your chucklevoodoos.”

Gamzee frowns and asks, “Again?”

“Last time we talked about it we weren’t even hatefriends,” you remind him, quickly latching onto the topic since you are curious, and you want to stop thinking about what happened. “Even if that weren’t the case, I have some specific questions that I’d like to ask.”

“Aight,” he says. “Most of what I said still be the same though, I was pretty motherfucking up-front with telling you about the ‘voodoos. Which includes as all I know well are mine.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” you say.

Gamzee nods and says, “Ask away then. I’ll answer best I know.”

“My first question is if trolls who are under the influence of chucklevoodoos always have that weird as hell purple light enveloping their gander bulbs,” Gamzee’s brows raise as you continue, “I’ve seen it a couple of times now, so I figure that it is one of the signs, but is it _always_ there?”

Gamzee pauses, humming like he’s thinking about it before saying, “Yes. Or at least, I all do think at so. Least as far as actually using what ‘voodoos to scare others purposeful or accidental. The residual shit don’t do it ‘cause we ain’t being to try to scare no one.”

You think about that for a second before asking, “So, does the residual shit effect other purples? Like, in your church I feel little tingles of fear or whatever. It’s pretty easy to ignore and I already know you can’t stop that, but do purples feel that too?”

“No,” Gamzee says, frowning as he says, “Purples ain’t feel no fear from their brethren’s ‘voodoos in church. It’s more like.”

Gamzee trails off, scowling and looking at a loss before slowly muttering, “We, can feel, or uh, messages? Kinda? Shit. It’s.”

He hums, closing his gander bulbs before saying quietly, “Knowledge of your family being near, of you being safe in the church, of all those around you being unwaveringly trusted. You’re close together and interwoven and working together and know each other even if you’ve never met before. The faithful are the blood and the Church of the Mirthful Messiahs is one big motherfucking living being. Even those as have passed, Messiahs bless them and guide them to the Carnival of Afterlife, they still be remembered for as long as possible. Even if you can’t see, feel, or hear them no more, they still be part of the same motherfucking, the same motherfucking flesh and blood as us as are still living.”

Gamzee sighs before he looks back at you, continuing, “We can use our ‘voodoos not only to scare, but to communicate and keep connected. Like, if a family member was close to flipping out and needed to be left alone. The motherfucker as is being flipping out could send out a signal of ‘stay away’. Or if they be out their fucking pan in one way or another, other family members as are trying to calm them down can all do the same for them. Faith can feel and feed off each other’s emotions, like if someone got really fucking pissed at a heretic, the rest of the family might all start feeling what same anger. Closer they are, the stronger they feel it, though that don’t mean that the other will feel need to act as the first might. If it was heretics, we usually all agree on that, so that’d be more likely to cause everyone to act on their anger. If it’s some motherfucker flipping out of fear or some shit, others ain’t as likely to be affected, ‘cause it ain’t as personal to them if that goes at making sense. Which is all how they can help, sensing a motherfucker about to flip out, getting all the general emotion as is causing it, and then keeping others away and talking them back to sense.”

Gamzee purses his lips for a second before muttering, “Which again, this be mostly my experiences and feelings on it, I ain’t able to speak for all my family.”

“So wait, does that mean,” you start to ask, pausing and rephrasing, “would purples not at all be affected by chucklevoodoos?”

Gamzee glances at you, shifting a bit before saying, “They can be. Purples have fears just like any other troll. Chucklevoodoos, when actually used in intent to scare, work off fear with no regards to blood, outside of what susceptibility as I spoke on of at before. That being said, if it’s focused enough even those as have resistance to the shit can still be feeling fear, and of course since ‘voodoos are technically psionics, that makes us purples all being psionics like Aradia and the younger Captor. So, purples would be fairly susceptible if someone uses ‘voodoos on them. That only usually happens when a family member is flipping out though, and those as deal with motherfuckers flipping out have some what kind of endurance to it, which is being all why subjugglator Uzdavi all dealt with Adamel when he was freaking out.”

“So, does that mean, that one time you panicked and lost control of your psionics before we were moirails,” you trail off, hesitating before asking, “I mean, I saw that your gander bulbs were purple. Does that mean –?”

You trail off again, your chest aching as your pump biscuit thumps painfully, and Gamzee scoffs sharply, asking, “How the fuck you think I know at what my own ‘voodoos do at a motherfucker?”

You swallow and cup your prong over one of his cheeks, quietly saying, “What the fuck.”

Gamzee huffs out his cartilaginous nub with a smile, saying, “Ain’t as I done it on purpose, then or any other motherfucking time. If I freak out enough, I lose control of my ‘voodoos, almost like what helms overload as like you explained at me once, and they all go terrorizing every motherfucker, including myself. Ain’t never done that apparition shit at myself, though, ‘cause that takes too much motherfucking effort.”

You take a breath before asking, “So if apparitions are the difficult shit to do, and the wave of generalized fear is the basic normal shit, is there anything else you can do?”

Gamzee glances away and says, “That’s about all I know of for motherfucking fact. If it causes you some other shit then I ain’t knowing what all about that too much, probably.”

You squint at him, asking, “What would you guess then? What else do you think you do to others with your chucklevoodoos? What else do you feel when you’re not in control of your powers?”

Gamzee looks at you, gander bulbs wide, starting to speak, “I –”

He looks away, gander bulbs still wide as he quickly murmurs, “The worst fears in a motherfucker’s pan. Whether they be past bullshit, or imagined possibilities, or a combination of both. Whatever be causing the most fear.”

Well fuck, that sounds about right according to what you experience, and explains a lot about how the others acted when you saw them influenced by his fear psionics. Not that you can say for certain what they were seeing or fearing, but it still explains a lot. Which means, firstly, he was definitely accidently using his powers on himself that one time, and secondly, when he was using it on himself, his own fears caused him to shut down and just sit there quietly, staring forward at nothing.

Okay, not, really, a great and happy thought to have. If his powers bring back your own fucking terrors, which you are mostly used to anyway, then you’re even more concerned about what the shit happened in his past that would make him just, disengage and withdraw into himself like that. You want to ask so badly, but, you refuse to force him to tell you. When he’s ready, he’ll tell you. If he _is_ ever ready.

You close your gander bulbs and take a deep breath before huffing it out and saying, “Okay. I think that answers all of my questions. Thank you.”

You stroke your thumb across his cheek and he turns into it, his gander bulbs dropping half-shut as he hums affirmatively. You bring your other prong up to pap him while still stroking your thumb over the other, murmuring, “I’m sorry if I made you think about something you didn’t want to.”

Gamzee scoffs, smiling softly and saying, “Ain’t no thing as can hurt me no more. Much as I do be forgetting that. It’s. I’ll be okay.”

“Let’s change the topic again,” you suggest quietly. Gamzee hums, seeming content to just sit quietly while you soothe him. You hesitate before asking, “I, what do you want to talk about? Anything you’ve been curious about that I could answer?”

Gamzee blinks before looking at you, asking, “What all was your lusus like? If you don’t be minding my asking?”

You shrug and say, “Loud and grouchy, most of the time, fuck sometimes I can still hear the echoes of his screeching in my auricular sponge clots. Sometimes he was gentle though, usually when I was young or if I was being an exceptionally wussy crybaby. I used to strife with him a lot, but sometimes I coddled him too much because he was old.”

Gamzee smiles and says, “Seems as like he was a significant and fairly positive influence at you then. You got what same temper and capacity for caring at others, like them threshers of yours.”

You feel your cheeks going red as you mutter, “I guess. I don’t coddle them though, I can’t afford to.”

Gamzee shrugs with a smirk, saying, “If you all insist, though as I see it, you get your protectiveness over them fairly often.”

You roll your gander bulbs as you say, “Let’s agree to disagree on that then. Anything else, you crazy circus act?”

Gamzee scoffs, hesitating before saying, “Kinda. Maybe.”

You raise an eyebrow and ask, “What is it?”

Gamzee frowns, pausing for a moment before asking, “Remember them heretics?”

You scowl and groan, grumbling, “Yeah, the random fucking assholes on that planet near your church. What about those fucks? I thought you mentioned that you already figured out what stupid bullshit they had to say, and killed them for it, or whatever.”

“Yeah,” he says, again pausing with a frown before asking, “Ain’t you curious about that? Like, ain’t you told Feferi as you would be to let her know what all was up with that? Why ain’t you asked for more details on it?”

You frown and say, “Because they are fucking irrelevant and _dead_. Them being dead is the only thing that matters about them. If you think there’s more I need to know, feel free to tell me. Honestly though, I could give less of a shit unless it’s somehow relevant to the Imperial Army or the Empire. And I don’t mean like, they were planning to kill Feferi or whatever, because they’re dead now, so that is also irrelevant. Death makes a lot of shit irrelevant Gamzee.”

Gamzee is still frowning so you go on to explain, “Feferi seems to have forgotten all about it, and I did too, aside from the few times you mentioned it, _that’s_ how fucking insignificant they are. You said you handled it and I trust what you say. I really don’t want to drag up old shit to her either. I think she understands the gist, that they were dealt with and are dead now, so bringing it back up would just concern her, even if it was for me to just clearly state that they were dead and not a problem. I mean, maybe that’s because I only talk to her when shit is actually important enough for her to worry about? Whatever, not the point.”

Gamzee sighs and you pause before asking, “Why did you ask? Is there something actually important that I need to know? I figure you would have told me a while ago if so.”

“We ain’t had all too much time alone between me hearing on it and flipping out, then all that meeting shit, and you kinda flipping out,” Gamzee replies.

“Oh.” You hesitate before asking, “So do you want to tell me what exactly happened? Is something they said important or bothering you?”

Gamzee purses his lips together for a minute, before finally saying, “It, still makes me angry, to think on. Their shit was most fucking sacrilegious and in ways as affected me personal.”

“Wouldn’t every heretic piss you off in the same way,” you ask. “I mean, I know how seriously and personally you take your religion, so.”

Gamzee looks at you, snarling as he says, “They were claiming you as their motherfucking god.”

Horrified and not even knowing how to fucking process that, you kind of just stare at Gamzee, probably looking as appalled as you feel. Gamzee’s look softens before he glances away, saying, “My family and I all know as heretics get to speaking whatever damned heresies as pleases them, but this shit was different for me. My family were a credit in finding everything out and making them heretics regret saying such blasphemous noise. But hearing on at what they planned, how all they were making you out to be something you ain’t in the least.”

Gamzee’s gander bulbs start to go orange as he growls, “All talking as how you were their second motherfucking coming, all lying and convincing themselves in their fabricated mock of religion, all trying to make you into a god when you’re just a motherfucking mortal ass troll, as holiness is some shit you _ever_ made claims at, as if you ever _would_ take such a claim. With plans of capture in what they claimed was ‘for your own good’, taking you and killing any who tried to get in their way, plots of forcing their beliefs on at you, intents of chaining you up and drugging you to make you ‘realize’ your ‘true nature’, motherfucking designs to be writing down your words as like they were holy. Without a care all for your own desires of the shit they had prepared.”

Gamzee snarls, gander bulbs red as he shouts, “Taking and taking and motherfucking _taking_ , shit as was never their place to claim in the first motherfucking place! Plotting shit all heinous and unholy, not caring at what others outside themselves got to thinking about it, with no care as to the cost of their strategies! Forcing and _forcing_ shit from my palest most precious motherfucking diamond!”

You pap his cheek once, causing him to halt and look at you, gander bulbs still red as he takes a few even breaths. After a minute, he relaxes a little and says, “I am _angry_ , my brother, I’m angry even as they are irrelevant and dead and won’t ever get to enact what schemes they had for you. I _praise Messiahs_ that my family was able to stop them. And even so, even goddamn so, it is not motherfucking enough. I want to bring the wrath of Messiahs’ upon them personally, I want to shred their worthless motherfucking corpses, I want to obliterate the motherfuckers out of existence entirely, for what they tried to do to you I want to –”

You close your gander bulbs and pap him again, hissing out, “Okay. I get the point. They were creepy fucked up assholes and you want to hurt them, even though they’re dead, because you are mad that they threatened me and tried to drag me into their fucked-up shit without my knowledge.”

Gamzee huffs and you open your gander bulbs, seeing that his gander bulbs have gone back to orange, hesitating before asking, “So what now?”

Gamzee furrows his brow and mutters, “Like you said, they’re already dead. Them being at what planet as was close to church may have all been coincidence, but I now see it miraculous lucky as we happened to stumble upon them. My family were all able to stop their plans before they got at to you. Praise as Messiahs’ judge their souls now.”

You sigh and say, “No, I mean.”

You look away, grimacing as you mutter, “I really am kind of scared to ask but, what does this mean about us? About me? Am I a fucking heretic now because of what they said? What the fuck does your faith even say about this shit? Does it say anything at fucking all? Like, is there a section or whatever in there that tells you what you should do if your fucking _moirail_ is involved with heresies? Like, what the fuck should I expect from hearing this Gamzee?”

“Karkat,” Gamzee says, gander bulbs yellow now as he moves so he can hold both your cheeks in his prongs, “My most cherished pale brother, my diamond bright and motherfucking clear, I know you ain’t nothing but a troll. You ain’t ever to be what they were trying to make of you, I _know_ that beyond doubt. Their claims ain’t nothing but heresies most motherfucking foul, and unfaithful as you may be, even _you_ reject what lies they would spread as like poison. Karkat, you did nothing wrong. You ain’t accountable for what they said. They can try to make bullshit into something it ain’t, but what it truly is be plain for all to motherfucking see. It ain’t nothing as could be held holy. But I think I be misunderstanding you some here. Tell me what the fuck it is as is causing you to be concerned. What did you _think_ was going to be happening?”

“I don’t fucking know,” you shout, throwing one of your arms out in your frustration. “That was the point of me asking! Maybe you or your family would be mad at me since the, whatever the fuck they were, whatever the fuck they called themselves, they obviously thought I – I was some kind of. Fuck, I don’t even know. But I’m _important_ in some way, I don’t even know what demented shit they made up as their excuse. I, kind of assumed, that would somehow. I – I don’t even fucking know what it would do, but it doesn’t seem like a fucking _good_ thing on any level. Like seriously Gamzee, I’m not the one who has a religion that kills any fucker who does or says something blasphemous, but I’m pretty sure those fuckers trying to _deify_ me is pretty fucking sacrilegious!”

“Yeah,” Gamzee snarls, his voice warping with his anger, and you hold your breath nervously. “But that shit ain’t your fault. Heretics will believe as planets are flat and the sun is not deadly, if that’s what they want to believe. That untruthful noise ain’t changing reality though. You ain’t got no responsibility for the shit as comes out their talk blasters. But, if you really want to motherfucking know, if hearing at after what my faith says might cause you some relief, then I’ll tell you.”

He huffs before saying, “If time comes when family suspects a faithful’s quadrant mate of being a heretic, we have a trial. Now, I ain’t never seen or judged one, but I got taught at me how they are meant to be set up.”

“A trial,” you mutter, “the fuck? Like, all that courtblock shit with the legislacerators?”

Gamzee laughs slightly, saying, “Nah. Church got its own thing. Legislacerators all wish as they were half as good at courtblock proceedings as my family is.”

You frown as Gamzee continues, “But it is meant to all go something like this. One troll of every branch of the church is the jury, the Grand is the judge, the cardinals are the attorneys. The one accusing is being the prosecutor, and the one being accused is the defendant. So, the faithful and their quadrant defend against the accusations of the prosecutor and prove as they ain’t a heretic. After hearing at all the proceedings, the jury all makes a decision of whether they side with one or the other, and based on the divide of the votes, the Grand all makes the final call of what all happens to the accused quadrant based on the votes and what all everyone said.”

You hesitate, not understanding _any_ of that, before asking, “Would I need to do that? Like, if at some point your family brought it up or whatever?”

Gamzee frowns and looks away, “Ain’t a need on you to do it, technically. Family ain’t never about forcing trolls like that. But if someone came to me with accusation, I.”

He closes his gander bulbs and mumbles, “I’d come and ask you if you were okay with going through a trial. I’d all have to excuse myself from being the judge though, ‘cause I am most unbiased. My family would understand.”

Gamzee looks at you and says, “If that ever gets to happening and we go to trial together, I’ll have your back my brother, and I promise you’ll come out unscathed.”

You scoff and mutter, “I’m half tempted to just do it now, mostly so I don’t have to worry about it later. Plus, I don’t want you to get upset by hearing your family accuse me of that to your face.”

Gamzee blinks at you, seeming surprised, before laughing once and grabbing onto you, leaning forward with a smile on his face. You dig your claws into him slightly, you feel the floor underneath you, trapping you, pinning you, and you shout in a panic, “Get off!”

He pulls back quickly, and you fall a few inches to the floor with a thump, Gamzee not touching you at all anymore, and sitting a little way away as he quickly says, “Sorry.”

You ignore the shaking in your limbs as best as you can, sighing and roughly running a prong through your hair, looking away from him as you mutter, “Just, not on top of me, okay? I don’t like feeling trapped.”

“Sorry,” Gamzee whispers and you look at him. His gander bulbs are wide with fear and his prongs are hanging in mid-air, like he’s not sure what to do with them.

You sigh again and sit up, saying, “Get back to holding me. It’s okay. You got off, that’s what matters.”

Gamzee hesitates, seeming uncertain as he slowly scoots back towards you. You roll your gander bulbs and get up, plopping yourself to sit sideways on his lap as you growl, “Don’t you dare treat me like I’m fucking glass now.”

Gamzee wraps his arms around you, embracing you closely as he quietly says, “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I know that,” you say, looking at him and brushing your fingers over his cheek lightly in a comforting gesture. “Just like I know you’re sorry. I forgive you, okay? Just don’t do it again.”

Gamzee nods and nuzzles against your face, muttering, “I won’t.”

You start stroking through his hair and he shudders before dissolving into that chittering rumble of a purr as you do so. After a minute of sitting and being held close, you ask Gamzee, “Are you staying here for another day, or do you need to go back to church?”

Gamzee hums, saying, “Dunno, but holding you close be nice so I ain’t feeling like leaving right now.”

You huff and ask, “Yeah well, don’t you have clown bullshit to do? I shouldn’t keep you from your, what is it you call it? ‘Truest calling of your soul’ or something like that?”

Gamzee laughs and purrs louder, saying, “I be surprised as you recall such a thing.”

“I’m not the one with a spotty memory, bulgesack,” you quickly retort.

Gamzee snorts and mutters, “Guess that’s truth.”

Then he frowns, pausing before looking at you and asking, “Can I all just stay with you ‘till tomorrow night? Won’t stay if you don’t want me to.”

You frown and say, “I don’t mind you staying. I just don’t want to keep you from anything important.”

“You _are_ important,” Gamzee whispers. After a slight pause, he says, “Hearing all what I did, it scared me almost as much as it angered me Karkat. I ain’t wanting to let go of you yet. Want physical reminder as you be well and safe.”

You sigh and scratch his nugbone lightly, making him chirp and snuggle closer to you as you murmur, “I guess I can understand wanting me close after that.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: fixed the minor color error, thanks for letting me know kelsey!

You finish buttoning all the buttons on your outfit, looking at yourself in the mirror of your ablutionblock and smirking. Gamzee is going to flip his shit. Your phone goes off loudly and speaking of the clown, that should be him now.

terminallyCapricious [TC] started trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TC: hEy mY BrO I’M AlL AlMoSt tHeRe

TC: WhY AlL DiD YoU Be nEeDiNg mE FoR AgAiN :o?

CG: LIKE I NEED A FUCKING EXCUSE TO SEE MY MOIRAIL? HAS IT EVER CROSSED YOUR PAN THAT I SIMPLY MISSED YOUR DUMB FACE AND WANTED TO SEE IT AGAIN? IS ME BEING SO STRAIGHT-FORWARD ABOUT WANTING YOU CLOSE THAT FUCKING SURPRISING? CAN I NOT SIMPLY ASK YOU TO COME HERE WITHOUT YOU THINKING I HAVE SOME KIND OF THING THAT I WANT FROM YOU, ASIDE FROM YOU JUST FUCKING BEING HERE? SERIOUSLY, I’M ALMOST FEELING INSULTED HERE GAMZEE. YOUR ACCUSATIONS WOUND ME.

TC: mY MoSt pAlE MoThErFuCkEr wHoM I PiTy wItH AlL My sOuL,

TC: ThAt sHiT DiStRaCtIoN AiN’T WoRkInG :oP

TC: nOt tHaT I’M SaYiNg yOu aIn’t nEvEr wAnTeD Me oVeR FoR SiMpLe pAlE ClOsEnEsS BuT MoThEr fUcK

TC: i aIn’t tHaT MoThErFuCkiNg dUmB I KnOw aS YoU GoT SoMe sHiT AlL BeInG PlAnNeD

TC: NoT EvEn bEiNg tO MeNtIoN As pLaNnInG Is lIkE, yOuR MoThErFuCkInG ThInG As yOu dO, eVeN WhEn aLl yOu aIn’t gOt nEeD To dO So

CG: IT’S A SURPRISE! HELL, I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE OBVIOUS BY NOW WITH ALL MY EVASIONS. I’M TRYING TO SURPRISE YOU. CAN’T YOU JUST LET ME TRY TO SURPRISE YOU FOR ONCE INSTEAD OF THE OTHER WAY AROUND? TRUST ME, YOU’RE GOING TO FUCKING LOVE IT.

TC: HaHa aIgHt tHeN I WoN’T PrY No mOrE :o)

CG: GOOD. NOW I NEED YOU TO DO ME A FAVOR. WITHOUT ASKING ANY QUESTIONS!

TC: uH

TC: oK

CG: MESSAGE FEFERI AND NEPETA, TELLING THEM THAT YOU’RE COMING TO THE TRAINING COMPOUND. TELL FEFERI THAT YOU HOPE NEPETA DOESN’T ATTACK YOU AND TELL NEPETA THAT YOU HOPE SHE CAN KEEP HER CLAWS TO HERSELF.

TC: … :o/

CG: WHAT’S THAT FACE FOR?

TC: i aIn’t kNoW NePeTa’s hAnDlE AnD YoU SaId aS NoT To aSk nO QuEsTiOnS…

CG: PFFT, YOU COULD HAVE ASKED THAT MUCH, DORK. HER HANDLE IS ARSENIC CATNIP. OH! AND, COULD YOU MAKE SURE TO MESSAGE FEFERI ON ACTUAL TROLLIAN? I’M NOT TRYING TO MAKE YOU READ ANY OF THE PAST SHIT, BUT.

TC: nAh iTs fInE I AiN’T MiNd

TC: AlL StArTeD ReAdInG At tHeM FiSh’s mEsSaGeS AfTeR BeInG To fInAlLy fInIsH EqUiUs’s

TC: ShE AnD ErIdAn aIn’t sEeM To hAvE CoNtAcTeD Me NeAr aS MuCh aNd i sTiLl bE AlL LiKe dUmB, bUt wHaT CoNvErSaTiOnS AiN’T NoThInG ToO UpSeTtInG

TC: kInDa bOrInG AcTuAlLy aNd aLl rIgHt aBoUt wHaT AlL I WaS ExPeCtInG FrOm tHeM, wHaT WiTh fEfErI JuSt bEiNg bUbBlY AnD Us mAkInG OcEaN ThEmEd JoKeS AnD ErIdAn gEtTiNg hIs gRiPe oN AbOuT HoW He wAnTeD ReD At fEfErI At tHe tImE Or sOmE OtHeR OvErDrAmAtIc tHiNg

TC: So i aIn’t fElT ReAsOn tO ReAlLy mEnTiOn aT It

TC: KiNdA FoRgOt i dIdN’T TeLl yOu aCtUaLlY

CG: OH. WELL, YOU’RE NOT STUPID, BUT ASIDE FROM THAT, THAT’S GOOD TO HEAR.

CG: ANY WHO! DID YOU DO WHAT I ASKED?

TC: yEp

CG: GOOD. DON’T SAY ANYTHING ELSE TO THEM RIGHT NOW.

TC: GlAdLy

TC: I GoT A QuEsTiOn

CG: GO AHEAD.

TC: ThEy aT WhAt tRaInInG CoMpOuNd

CG: YES.

CG: NOW, I NEED TO GO FOR A MINUTE, TALK TO A COUPLE OTHER TROLLS BEFORE YOU GET HERE. THAT KIND OF SHIT. SEE YOU SOON MY PRECIOUS PALEMATE. <>

TC: SeE YoU SoOn <> :o)

carcinoGeneticist [CG] started trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

CG: HEY FUCKER.

CG: I KNOW YOU’RE GOING TO PRETEND YOU DON’T KNOW THAT I’M MESSAGING YOU, BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO FUCKING BUSY MOPING OR SOME SHIT. BUT I THOUGHT, SINCE I *SOMEHOW* STILL HAVE A SMIDGEN OF RESPECT FOR YOU DESPITE HOW MUCH I FUCKING DESPISE YOU, THAT I’D LET YOU KNOW SOMETHING IMPORTANT. IT’S SOMETHING EVEN YOU, AND YOUR INTENSE HATRED OF SAYING I’M RIGHT, WILL HAVE TO RECOGNIZE AS IMPORTANT. SO FUCKING DEAL WITH IT BECAUSE I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY WIGGLER ANTICS. IN FACT, AFTER I FINISH, I WILL NOT RESPOND TO YOU AT ALL. THIS IS JUST A QUICK INFO DROP AND PART WAYS KIND OF DEAL.

CG: I’M SICK AND FUCKING TIRED SOLLUX. SICK. AND. GODDAMN. TIRED. OF YOU TREATING ME LIKE GLASS. YOU *NEED* TO QUIT IT. YOU WANT ME AS YOUR KISMESIS? THEN FUCKING ACT LIKE IT. I’VE TRIED TO MAKE THE FIRST MOVE, I’VE TRIED TO ANTAGONIZE YOU INTO MAKING THE FIRST MOVE, I’VE GIVEN YOU A FUCK TON OF OPPORTUNITIES THAT YOU COULD’VE EASILY TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF, I’VE GIVEN YOU PLENTY OF GODDAMN TIME AND CHANCES. I’M SO CLOSE TO BEING DONE. AND NO, I DON’T MEAN FLIPPING THE FUCKING TABLE DONE, I MEAN JUST DONE. I’M ALMOST READY TO GIVE UP, OKAY? IS THAT WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT? BECAUSE, SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER, YOU WON’T GET A SECOND CHANCE DESPITE YOUR OBSESSION TO THE NUMBER TWO. THIS IS MY DESPERATE PLEA SOLLUX. TREAT ME LIKE YOU ROMANTICALLY HATE ME, OR YOU WILL LOSE YOUR KISMESIS, BEFORE YOU EVEN GET TO KISS HIM. NOT DUE TO A LACK OF ME TRYING, FUCKHEAD.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] started trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA]

CG: HEY KANAYA. I KNOW I’VE PROBABLY MENTIONED IT A MILLION TIMES ALREADY BUT, YOU ARE AMAZING.

GA: I Take It That You Like It Then

CG: I FUCKING LOVE IT, NOT TO MENTION WHAT MY MOIRAIL IS GOING TO THINK OF IT. I WANT TO ASK HOW THE FUCK YOU EVEN GOT IT DONE SO QUICKLY, BUT AM A LITTLE NERVOUS ABOUT THE ANSWER? YOU’RE MILDLY FRIGHTENING AT TIMES.

GA: I Have Been Wanting To Make You Nice Clothes For Sweeps You Know That

GA: And It Is Not Like You Ever Ask Despite My Attempts To Convince You

GA: So I Jumped On This Quickly When You Requested It

CG: WELL, THANK YOU. IF THIS ENDS HALF AS WELL AS I THINK IT WILL, MAYBE I’LL ASK FOR SOMETHING ELSE. OR SHIT, MAYBE GET YOU TO MAKE SOMETHING FOR GAMZEE. WITH ALL THE DIFFERENT BULLSHIT PATTERNS CLOWNS USE, THAT’D BE INTERESTING TO SEE. OR, HUH, MAYBE YOU COULD DO SOMETHING MORE LIKE WHAT HE WOULD WEAR TO FESTIVITY CARNIVALS, WITH ALL THOSE COLORS TO CHOOSE FROM – AND YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I MEAN OR WHAT I’M SAYING SO I’LL STOP TALKING.

GA: Alright

GA: Also, Just So You Know, It Is Also Lined With Armor

GA: So It Is Technically Able To Protect You In A Fight

GA: Though Not As Much As Your Usual Armor, Of Course

CG: OH SHIT!

GA: Please Do Not Tear Or Rip It If You Can Help It Though

GA: I Spent Quite A Lot Of Effort On It

GA: I Just Knew You Would Appreciate The Protection So I Designed It To Accommodate For That

CG: YEAH I. FUCK. THANKS. IT’S SO FUCKING LIGHT TOO, LIKE, WHAT THE FUCK!? IS THIS LIKE FUCKING WITCH CRAFT OR SOME SHIT KANAYA?

GA: Not Really All I Had To Do Was Put Some Cut-Resistant Fabric In-Between The Lining And Sew It All Together

GA: And You Have No Idea What That Means Even Though That Was Very Simple Terminology Right

CG: NOT A GODDAMN FUCKING CLUE. ALL I KNOW IS THAT THIS IS AMAZING AND PERFECT, JUST LIKE YOU, AND I CAN’T WAIT TO SHOW GAMZEE. SPEAKING OF, I NEED TO GET OFF HERE. I HAVE A LOT OF SHIT PLANNED AND IT ALL HAS TO COME TOGETHER *JUST* FUCKING RIGHT. LIKE THIS OUTFIT DID. GREAT JOB, AGAIN, AND SERIOUSLY THANK YOU. I MIGHT NOT EVER STOP SAYING THAT.

You put your phone away and look at your reflection one last time. Your hair is as neat as you could get it. You’re wearing black trousers and a black waistcoat with red lining the edges where it buttons up, underneath that is a loose-fitting long-sleeve grey collared shirt. Around your neck is a white neckband with fabric falling down, and directly in the middle of the cloth is a diamond-shaped little jewel that is pink.

It's the beginning of the twenty-eighth dark perigee and you are dressed the fuck up. Just to surprise Gamzee.

You smile again before marching out of your block, hoping everything works out like you’ve planned. When you get to the main training area, you see the newbies being trained right now by the lieutenants that are your old battleship crew.

One of the newbies seems to notice you, halting as they see you, before getting knocked on their ass by Tremen. You scoff and walk up, Tremen also seeming to pause as you offer a prong to the newbie, saying, “You shouldn’t get so easily distracted, dumbass.”

Their face goes a deep teal, taking your prong, squeaking in surprise as you pull them up a bit roughly. Once they’re standing, you make sure the sleeves of your shirt are still neat, and you hear Tremen mutter, “Damn, is that you Martinet?”

You raise an eyebrow and look at them, “Who the fuck else would I be? Did you recently fall on your goddamn nugbone or something? Hit yourself in the pan with your bat? Anything else equally as stupid and damaging to your think pan?”

Tremen shakes their nugbone, mumbling, “You’re out of your armor though. It’s, it’s just. Strange.”

You roll your gander bulbs and say, “All you assholes have outfits outside of armor as well. It’s not that fucking strange if you use your pan for more than half a goddamn second. Now if you don’t mind, I have business to attend to.”

Without another word, you walk away from them, seeing Feferi and Nepeta standing near Gamzee, none of them looking happy as Feferi seems to be talking to them both. You grin as you head towards them, glad that your plan is working so far. When you get close enough, you say, “What are you both doing here?”

They all turn to look at you, and you see Gamzee freeze when he sees you, Feferi blinking in surprise and Nepeta putting her prongs in front of her mouth in shock.

Feferi eventually says, “Water _you_ doing crab-catch?”

“Yeah,” Nepeta says, “You are all purr-eety! What fur?”

You smirk and say, “I have an important person to talk to, what else would I dress up for?”

Feferi pouts and mutters, “What, meeting with the Empress isn’t fin-port-ant enough?”

You chuckle, which causes Nepeta to mutter, “What the fur-ck.”

Then you look at Gamzee, purring out, “Ready to go?”

Nepeta and Feferi both look at him as he stands there, talk blaster agape, but he snaps out of it after a second and mutters, “Uh, yeah. Shit. Yeah. Lead the way.”

Gamzee walks forward and just before you can start walking off, in a flash of red and blue, Sollux is standing a few feet away from you.

He starts a bit at seeing you, glancing you over twice before asking, “What the hell?”

This worked so perfectly you want to cry, and you innocently ask back, “What the hell?”

Sollux goes yellow and hisses, “You sent me that stupid fucking message, so what do you want?”

You scoff and growl out, “I never said you should come talk to me or see me. I’m actually fucking busy, with way more important things then dealing with you. Like I fucking said, I was just giving you some quick info and then I wasn’t talking to you. That includes in person, so goodbye.”

You turn and walk away, Gamzee quickly following after you after a moment, and he says, “My bro, I got so many motherfucking questions.”

“That not asking questions thing was only for that short minute or two on trollian,” you remind him gently.

“Good,” he says as he walks beside you, “Because, what the hell, what was that, where’d you get this outfit, why the fuck did you tell at me to message them sisters, what all did you message to that yellow bro, what the fuck, what is going on, am I motherfucking dreaming, what, the, mother, fuck? What all did you have planned to do?”

You turn to him, face going warm as you mutter, “To be honest, this was about as far as I planned. So, I guess it’s up to you.”

Gamzee laughs loudly, saying, “Messiahs my brother, that ain’t like you. I mean, I ain’t thinking as I even understand fully what all you had planned or why, but once we get in our pile in your block we can speak on that more.”

You smile and say, “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

Eventually you get back to your block, flopping onto the pile with a huge grin, holy shit that worked out _perfectly_. Maybe the perfection of this outfit, and Kanaya, influenced your plans.

Gamzee lays down on his side next to you and says, “Aight, explain at this motherfucker what all was going down in your pan.”

You roll towards him, laying on your side as well before you say, “See, I asked Kanaya to make this outfit for me, or well for you, technically, but yeah. She made it, way quicker than I thought possible, somehow got it to have some armoring even though it’s light as hell, and mostly just for the sake of my own paranoia, it’s not really supposed to work like my actual armor. And I wanted to invite you over because I was only really dressing up for you, because I knew you’d like it. Even before I saw it, I knew Kanaya would make something great, and fuck if she doesn’t know how to make clothes that are perfect. Once I saw it though, I was amazed that she did something so fancy yet badass, and I got a crazy idea. What if, when you came to see your surprise of me wearing something nice for you, I also pissed off both our potential black quadrants with it? I could make Sollux see me all looking intimidatingly good, and see that it wasn’t for him, god I bet he’s fucking fuming right now. Then, if Feferi and Nepeta saw me dressed up and saw it was for you, saw you prioritize me over them, it was just perfect!”

You snicker, muttering, “And it actually worked, oh my god, did you _see_ their faces?”

“Nah, was too busy all looking at you my diamond brother,” Gamzee murmurs softly.

You stop laughing to look at Gamzee, grinning slightly as you say, “Sorry for all the secrecy but I wanted this to work out just right.”

Gamzee shakes his nugbone, saying, “Nah. I ain’t minding, specially seeing as you be telling me it now. Though why all not tell me about your plans for making Nepeta and Feferi ashen aggrieved at me?”

“So you could honestly say that you weren’t intending to irritate or flirt with them,” you say.

“Kind of how you went and told the younger Captor as you didn’t all ask for his presence,” Gamzee asks.

“Exactly,” you grin again, glad that he understands you so easily.

Gamzee laughs and asks, “Shit going well between you and Captor then? You two gonna get your settle up in black any time soon?”

You groan and mutter, “I fucking wish. He’s being, okay if infuriating in this scenario indicates romantic overtones, then I guess I’d have to say that it’s just kind of. Disappointing.”

Gamzee blinks and asks, “How so? I know how oft you speak on how you two get to riling each other all hot and bothered. What all is getting disappointment sitting on your thorax?”

You lowly growl and mutter, “Every time we _almost_ get to the point of actually doing anything that could mean I get hurt, Sollux wusses the fuck out! Fucker won’t even fucking _kiss_ me. It’s really starting to piss me off, and not in the fucking good way.”

Gamzee hums slightly, then asks, “You don’t think he is doing it to piss you off purposeful romantic?”

“No,” you say, “he just fucking.”

You wave your free prong around vaguely while scowling, “He thinks I’m fucking glass. I want to platonically choke him for it. He needs to fucking quit before I go full platonic. I’ve told him this in no uncertain terms. That was actually what I messaged him about. He isn’t really doing it as a romantic black gesture. He just –”

A loud furious growl cuts off your own words, fingers bending like you’re ready to use your claws in your anger. Gamzee’s fingers brush your cheek lightly before his prong cups your cheek, and you take a deep breath of air, relaxing as Gamzee strokes his thumb across your cheek bone lightly, the curling ferocity dissipating slowly.

Something occurs to you and you smirk as you ask, “What about your potential cat-fish quadrant?”

“That ain’t even hardly motherfucking funny,” Gamzee complains.

You laugh and easily point out, “You knew my sense of humor was shitty before you entered this relationship. Now hurry up and talk to me about how Nepeta and Feferi make you feel.”

Gamzee sighs and mutters, “Well I already up and explained most of what emotions I got for them. I guess I appreciate Feferi stopping Nepeta from killing me. Nepeta, I honestly feel is in the right, but I ain’t wanting to die, I wish we could get along, but I do be doubting that’ll happen. It’s frustrating as she refuses to accept my apology, ain’t like I’m asking forgiveness, just for her to know as I mean it when I say it. Feferi’s an annoying ass fish as thinks herself as epitome of perfection and all that shit. Though if she steps too damn close at my faith or family _one more fucking time_ , my brother I may not be able to hold myself back.”

You frown and mutter, “That would be a very bad idea Gamzee.”

Gamzee shrugs, muttering quietly, “I guess I know that. I do mean it though, but I’ll try to warn her all serious next time I spot her. Didn’t get chance this time, but you’re better motherfuckin company in just about every damn way, so. Anyway, I ain’t gonna let her shit-talk things I hold so dear, but I don’t truly want for to kill her over it either. Will if she makes me though.”

“I know you would,” you say calmly, “I’ll talk to her too, in case she thinks you’re just romantically threatening it. I don’t want you to have to kill her because she’s a fucking bigoted idiot.”

“Appreciative of you,” Gamzee murmurs.

You purr softly and smile slightly as you ask, “You were saying though?”

Gamzee huffs through his cartilaginous nub and mutters, “I, think I hate-like them in the most frustrating to admit way, like fuck it makes me want to scream and tear my hair out but. This is you I’m speaking at to, not them, so. Guess that makes it slight easier.”

“It does seem like you all would work out as a decent ashen trio, assuming Feferi listens when you and I both tell her to leave your family the hell out of it,” you mutter.

Gamzee hums and shrugs, saying, “Guess we’ll be to see. Wouldn’t be entirely against it, would actually be kind of a relief, not as I’d let them know on that.”

You scoff and say, “See, you know what to do when it comes to romance. You hardly even fucking need me to help you.”

Gamzee pauses, mumbling, “Still ain’t understanding most this flirting shit though.”

You pap his cheek a few times for no real reason, saying, “Yeah well, that’s part of the reason you have me. But seriously, you do pretty damn well on your own for the most part.”

Gamzee chuckles softly, saying, “If you say so bro. I ain’t arming up to fight at you over it. Tell me on about them other quadrants. Got any prospects for flush or ashen?”

You grimace and mutter, “Not really. I already deal with enough nearly ashen bullshit when trying to teach the new threshecutioners how to cooperate, so I don’t really want to deal with it any more then I already do. Plus, these assholes are just about the only trolls I really know, specifically the only I know my age. So that means if you get together with Feferi and Nepeta ashen, only Tavros, Sollux, and I, would have an open ashen quadrant. I’m fairly content with having Sollux as my kismesis, assuming he grows a pair of shame globes soon.”

You hesitate, thinking before saying, “As far as flush, the only trolls I know that don’t have that currently filled are Tavros, Eridan, me, and you.”

Gamzee blinks and says, “By the way, I’m gonna start to all read through my old chats with Nitram.”

“Alright,” you say with a shrug, “Honestly, I don’t expect it’ll be anything that would stop you from wanting to talk to him. Feel free to do what you need to though, and in case I’m wrong, you can always talk to me about it.”


	20. Chapter 20

Your purple threshecutioners finish cocooning within a week of the start of the twenty-eighth dark perigee, growing significantly larger in the process according to Gamzee. There was apparently a carnival of festivity right after they emerged, and you didn’t make it there because you had been dealing with the trolls cocooning in the Imperial Army. Cocooning is always annoying because of how you have multiple blood colors going into and coming out of cocoons on wildly different schedules. Right now, you have some free time though, so Gamzee has invited you to see them be titled by the church. You don’t mind, it might be nice.

You’ve been thinking for a while, maybe even since Gamzee off-handedly mentioned something similar, of trying to somehow get the clowns to help and fight with the Empire. Clowns tend to rarely travel out of their church and get involved with the Empire, or the Imperial Army, but you kind of hope to change that. They are fucking terrifyingly good fighters, and you want them on the Empire’s side, not against it. You’ve told Gamzee of this idea and he shrugged, more or less saying ‘if it works it’d be nice’, of course coated with religious allusions as well as doubt. Even if he doubted it, he didn’t say you shouldn’t try for any reason, so you assume that means you can try.

Either way, you arrive with Gamzee at the church, surprised that it’s so quiet. Gamzee seems to notice your confusion and says, “This carnival is a lot more formal then the others. Got like fourteen motherfuckers earning titles tonight, so ain’t should be too awful long. Much longer then what carnival when me and those I trained with got titles, though. Would be fifteen, but my family all outnumbered me on the decision of whether Shrila would get his title now. I thought since he was old enough it would be good, but they said he needs to finish training first.”

You shrug, entering the church and ignoring the stab of fear in your pan, as you walk beside Gamzee, saying, “I can see the sense in both to be honest.”

Gamzee shrugs as well and says, “Same here, I all suppose. Which is why I all offered option, but did not too seriously fight over it being to happen.”

Speaking of Shrila, Gamzee walks up to him among one of the small crowds of clowns that are milling about, obviously waiting for the titling ceremony. It looks like he’s hanging out with the younger ones that he’s been training with.

When you and Gamzee stop beside Shrila, he smiles and says, “Hey! Nice to see you Grand Pulpiteer, Martinet.”

The clowns around him are either glaring at you or staring at Gamzee with wide gander bulbs, but you ignore it and say, “Hey, been a while you psychotic asshole.”

Shrila snorts and Gamzee turns to you, saying, “I’d greatly enjoy chilling out with you both, but I all got to get to helping start the carnival.”

“Oh, alright,” you say.

Gamzee kisses the top of your nugbone, brushing his fingers along your cheek softly as he says, “Be safe my brother.”

You scoff like you don’t think you have a reason to worry, muttering, “Show off.”

Gamzee chuckles and smiles at you, and you both know that you’re not nearly as unconcerned about him leaving as you sound. Well, at least he’s leaving you with Shrila, so you should be fairly alright. Maybe. Never good to forget where you are, how much you’re not really welcome here.

Shrila coughs and mutters, “Fuck it’s weird to see you relaxed.”

You look at him, raising an eyebrow as you say, “At least now you know how it feels when you and Bergis are being disgustingly saccharine in front of everyone.”

Shrila laughs softly, muttering, “I guess.”

“Shit, sorry, I shouldn’t have –”

“No, no,” Shrila says quickly, waving his prongs, “It’s fine. Not your fault. I just miss him a lot, even though we constantly talk.”

You sigh and glance over to where Gamzee walked off, mumbling, “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

You shake your nugbone and look back at Shrila, and one of the young clowns speaks up, saying, “Okay brother blue, who the fuck is this?”

Shrila looks to them and says, “He’s the Martinet, general of the threshecutioners, leader of the Imperial Army. He’s my superior, but he’s an uncle too, so.”

“What, the fuck, is an uncle,” you ask, because seriously, what the fuck even _is that_.

Shrila laughs nervously, saying, “Basically it means you’re an older unfaithful troll I trust and respect.”

You huff, feeling something crawling along your skin as you say, “Alright, I guess? I really should just accept that this clown shit is never going to make any goddamn sense to me, even if I ask.”

“Wait, if he’s your uncle, then what’s with Grand Pulpiteer calling him brother,” another young clown asks.

“We’re moirails,” you reply easily.

“Motherfuck, seriously,” they ask, turning to Shrila, “That on the level brother blue?”

“Yeah,” Shrila says even as you wonder if asking Shrila was seriously fucking necessary. Are clowns usually that fucking untrusting of those outside of their faith? “Even if I didn’t know Martinet doesn’t joke about basically anything, let alone something like that, I’ve heard as much from my own moirail. Apparently Grand Pulpiteer was blind raging and Martinet shoosh papped him out of it.”

“Oh, my, motherfucking, Messiahs,” they whisper back, seeming flustered.

“We were together before that,” you hiss defensively, cheeks warm, “I wouldn’t have papped him if I didn’t trust him and know that he was okay with that. Movies and shit might show randomly papping raging trolls as a good thing, but that shit doesn’t apply in real life.”

One of the clowns laughs, saying, “Damn, you’re taking it way too seriously in the wrong direction. Plus, your color is betraying you brother.”

You grumble as you ask, “Then what the fuck are you getting all flustered about?”

With another laugh, the clown says, “You shoosh papped him out a true blind rage. We purple rarely hear about anyone able, let alone willing, to do that. So, it’s, a little like. We wish we could have that for ourselves? Not from you, obviously but.”

“Yeah not all of us can be as lucky as brother blue, finding his serendipitous moirail before conscription even, like damn,” another clown complains.

You scoff as Shrila grins and chuckles like he’s embarrassed, and you say, “Well, glad to see that you seem to be fitting right in, Shrila.”

He nods and says, “Yeah, I was nervous at first but I’m so happy to be here!”

One of the young clowns’ scoffs and says, “Why were you even so nervous? Grand Pulpiteer himself made sure you’d be welcomed and known as our brother, even before we got initiated.”

“Don’t judge me motherfucker, you all were nervous and shit at first too,” Shrila says. “You tell me, why were you all cautious, when you had no reason for it?”

The clown groans and says, “Yeah, yeah, you made your point my brother.”

You shake your nugbone as you feel like you’re being watched, asking Shrila, “Hey, so, I have to ask. Since you are not a purple, does that mean you can feel the creepy vibes from the purples’ fear psionics?”

Shrila blinks and asks, “The what?”

“I think Martinet means the chucklevoodoos,” one of the clowns’ mutters. “With so many of us in one place, they tend to subtly effect non-faithful trolls, even when we’re not trying to use them.”

“Oh, I guess not then,” Shrila shrugs.

“So, wait,” one of the other clowns asks, “does that mean you can’t sense the, uh.”

They stop mid-sentence, and after a second the other clowns around you and Shrila all frown at about the same time, then the one who cut themselves off shrugs and asks, “You feel that brother blue?”

Shrila frowns and says, “Um, no?”

“Well damn, that kind of sucks,” one of the clowns says. You guess that means Shrila can’t sense the ‘messages’ or whatever, the ones Gamzee told you about.

Shrila shrugs, saying, “I’ve known that I have a bit of a psychic block. Or what does Bergis say, oh right, that I’m a psychic blackhole. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

The young clowns around you both laugh at that, and then from the distance you hear a familiar voice call out, “Family and friends, come gather tonight to see these newly pupated faithful trolls earn their titles.”

“About motherfucking time,” one of the clowns near you exclaims.

“Let’s go,” Shrila says, and you follow him and the young clowns over to where Gamzee is standing on a, fucking stage? Where the fuck did that come from?

Either way, he’s standing on a fucking stage with what looks like the oldest of the church members. Prakis is of course the oldest, the others looking at least a hundred sweeps younger than them. After a second, you notice that the clowns up there are the trolls you met when Shrila was asked all those fucking questions.

Gamzee is smiling as he looks at everyone gathered in front of the stage, and you catch a glimpse of some other trolls waiting behind the stage. They all must be the ten-sweepers. “Tonight, the educators and I are all proud to be titling those as have finally been to reach their tenth sweep, so without further motherfucking ado.”

Gamzee steps to the side, facing the side of the stage where you saw those other trolls gathered, and speaks up, “Keeler Kathad, come up and receive your title.”

A clown walks up on stage and Gamzee says, “This brother was taught by none other than Systemic Kosezi, and she shall bestow him with his title, as is only motherfucking fair.”

Gamzee bows briefly and steps aside as Kosezi walks forward, facing the significantly younger troll before grabbing one of his prongs, a phantom whisper of non-words right next to your auricular shell causing you to have to suppress a twitch. Fuck, you almost forgot about the creepy bullshit with the titling shit that’s going on. Kosezi says, “My brother, I have reveled in watching you learn and grow under me for these sweeps, as I do every one of my precious family. I am beyond motherfucking honored to give you the title of Mystical Analytic.”

The clown takes a deep breath of air, and Kosezi smiles before dropping the other clown’s prong and bowing slightly before stepping back. Gamzee steps forward and says, “As the Grand of the church, I congratulate you on earning your title, Mystical Analytic.”

The clown bows to Gamzee and he bows back slightly, before the clown starts to walk off the other side of the stage. As they walk, Gamzee calls out, “Basink Esthac, come up and receive your title.”

Another clown walks up on stage and Gamzee says, “This sibling was taught by none other than Exemplar Shigin, and they shall bestow them with their title, as is only motherfucking fair.”

Gamzee bows and steps out of the way quickly as Shigin practically jumps forward, curtsying to Gamzee with a sharp grin before turning and facing the younger troll.

“My sibling, I have quite enjoyed teaching you, watching you become who you were always meant to be, and I am glad the Messiahs guided you to be a cardinal,” Shigin exclaims, “therefore it is quite satisfying for me to give you the title of Corporal Asserter.”

The clown grins back and Shigin curtseys again before stepping back, Gamzee again stepping forward and saying, “As the Grand of the church, I congratulate you on earning your title, Corporal Asserter.”

They bow to each other again before the younger clown walks off, and you’re just beginning to realize how repetitive and long this is going to be.

“Uduane Penget,” Gamzee calls out, and when is he going to get to the actual clowns you know, holy shit, “come up and receive your title.”

The clown walks up on stage and Gamzee says, “This sibling was taught by none other than Systemic Kosezi, and she shall therefore bestow them with their title, as is only motherfucking fair.”

Gamzee bows briefly and steps aside as Kosezi again walks forward, saying, “My sibling, I have reveled in watching you learn and grow under me for these sweeps, as I do every one of my precious family. I am beyond motherfucking honored to give you the title of Pastoral Specific.”

Kosezi bows and steps back, Gamzee saying, “As the Grand of the church, I congratulate you on earning your title, Pastoral Specific.”

They both bow and the younger walks off, Gamzee going on easily, “Gaxxic Uureed, come up and receive your title.”

Thank fuck, it’s someone you know, but after a pause where no one comes up, Gamzee says, “Oh, wait, pardon me. Gaxxic Uureed, Iunond Thawos, and Adamel Izoaph, all three of you come get your titles together.”

With that all three of them walk up, linked together by the elbows, and shit they did grow drastically during pupation. Adamel’s smiling hugely and obviously excited, Iunond frowning but somehow still looking excited, and Gaxxic’s lips seem tight as she grips onto the other two. Oh shit, her anxiousness is near fucking palatable to _you_. Or wait, is that the fear psionics subtly fucking with you again?

“Sorry, almost forgot my siblings,” Gamzee mutters.

Adamel shakes his head and whispers just barely loud enough so you can hear, “It’s fine, she’ll be fine! Just be quick please!”

Gamzee nods sharply then says at normal volume, “Now these three hatchmates were taught by Enforcer Gimnas and Forceful Uzdavi, and those two shall give out titles to the ones they taught, as is only motherfucking fair.”

Gamzee bows and steps back, both Uzdavi and Gimnas stepping forward, bowing to each other a little stiffly. Gimnas steps forward first, saying, “My sister, it has been frustrating and fun teaching you how to harness your natural ability and tendency to hide. You are an outstanding pupil, and I feel my job has been fulfilled as I give you the title Unbiased Penumbra.”

Gimnas grins softly and mutters, “Now try not to pass out, aight my sis?”

Gaxxic nods and swallows, Gimnas stepping back and Uzdavi stepping forward before saying, “My sibling, my brother, you both are powerful in your own ways and I am excited to call you subjugglators. You both have well-earned your titles. Iunond earning Tragical Enforcer and Adamel earning Cheerful Security.”

Uzdavi and Gimnas bow and step back, Gamzee saying, “As the Grand of the church, I congratulate you on earning your titles. Unbiased Penumbra, Tragical Enforcer, and Cheerful Security.”

They all bow to Gamzee a little awkwardly since Gaxxic is still holding onto them both tightly, and Gamzee bows back, the three of them walking off.

Now that the three you were waiting for have gotten their titles, you kind of stop paying as much attention. Adacus Sandus gets his title, Jubilant Declarer, from Shigin. Kinnan Erimon gets their title, Secluded Athletic, from Kosezi. Aragil Homlyn gets his title, Supernal Lecturer, from Pontifex. Even though the title Gamzee uses is apparently Clerical Digest? You’re still used to thinking of them as Pontifex or Prakis because of Gamzee, does that mean Prakis is their given name? You, given the track record of how weird clowns are about names and titles, decide to stop wondering. Either way, Ebende Sanber gets her title, Enamored Culinary, from Danseuse Zelorn. Eglarn Maelyn gets her title, Gymnical Figurant, from Thespian Hinnun. Kamrys Brecca gets his title, Ethereal Danseuse, from Zelorn. Fiacus Harian gets her title, Generous Minstrel, from Hinnun. The last to get a title is Whilin Finuil.

This whole time you’ve been ignoring those subtle pings of fear. When the last clown walks up, instead of calling over one of the older trolls, Gamzee himself says, “My sister, I’m going to be giving you this title. I know Clerical Digest taught you and they have right to it, but we discussed this at length. I heard you stepped up major for our family while I was gone, all went and helped Clerical Digest out during many initiations. For that, my sister, I am eternally grateful, and humbled as I give you the title of Faithful Anointer. As the Grand of the church, I congratulate you on earning your title, Faithful Anointer.”

Gamzee bows to her and she bows back, looking like she’s about to cry. She walks off stage just like the rest after that, and Gamzee turns to the crowd before saying, “With that, my family, this carnival of entitlement is to be finished.”

The clowns all cheer suddenly, and you jump a little, having mostly not expecting the volume. Fucking hell. As the noise dies down, the clowns on the stage get off before a few of them go around it, bending down to do, something. Then, they all go to one side and start just, pushing it away. It takes you a second to realize that it has wheels. Huh. You guess that explains that?

Gamzee walks over to you with a smile on his face, and you’re very impressed with how, commanding isn’t the right word, how in charge, how professional, how _adult_ he was during that. You’ve learned that it’s something he rarely is able to do due to his own faltering self-confidence, to act like he is actually a powerful adult who knows what they’re doing. You’ve been trying to help him see that he’s the only one that sees himself as a dumb wiggler, it’s not easy, but if your words help him even slightly in the long run, you know it’ll feel worth it.

Gamzee stands in front of you and opens his talk blaster, but before he can say anything to you, another clown walks up to him and bows, asking, “May I say something Grand Pulpiteer?”

Gamzee frowns and says, “If Messiahs be guiding you to do so, who am I to all stop you? What you need my brother?”

This clown looks young, maybe only eleven, and he fidgets slightly before muttering, “I know what I, we, did was wrong, and we wouldn’t do it again. But, there are those of us who are, worried.”

Wait, what? What did he do that was wrong? Gamzee turns to him fully and asks, “About what?”

“It’s just,” the clown glances at you and you understand jack shit. The clown says, “We, the faithful, used to be able to go about and do Messiahs’ bidding and kill as we saw fit. But the Empress doesn’t want no more killing. What are we to do since we still wish to follow Messiahs’ whim, but now the Empire is forbidding us to kill as we used to be able to do?”

Gamzee goes perfectly still, and you definitely notice all the other clowns, even the ones farthest away, stiffening up as well.

Gamzee breathes evenly and stays silent for a minute, before eventually asking, “Who else has had concern on this and ain’t said nothing till now?”

Most of the clowns look away from Gamzee and you see him clench his fist, Prakis walking close and using a mollifying tone as they say, “Now my family, we been through worse trials, we’ll think of something.”

Gamzee looks at Prakis for a moment, then back to the younger troll. You. Are worried. Even as you hear mocking laughter, you and he both know that Feferi is strict about the ‘no killing’ rule. You and he both understand that he is devoted to his religion above everything else. The Empire, you, his own life. Fuck, you feel like an idiot for not thinking of this problem earlier, and you have a feeling Gamzee is thinking just about the same. Even though you never expected an opportunity as convenient as this, you think you might have a solution where everyone ends up happy.

“Why don’t you guys just fight alongside the Imperial Army,” you ask, trying to bury the fear that they’ll flip out or get angry at you for even asking. Breathe, calm down, you have Gamzee, and Shrila. You hope. Fuck.

Prakis frowns and asks, “Why would we do that? We ain’t as eager to go in space like you lot.”

You put your prongs up, passively showing that you’re unarmed, saying, “I’m just suggesting, that if you guys want to kill, come join in on some of the Imperial Army’s battles. You all could even take the blood of the enemy corpses or whatever if you wanted. Seriously, it’s not like we do anything but leave them to rot, have the fuck at them.”

Prakis is still frowning as they ask, “And you think the other trolls in the Imperial Army will be so eager to have us coming and going as we please?”

“It doesn’t matter what they think,” you say with the surety you’ve gained through sweeps of commanding trolls and dealing with negotiations, “I’m the damned leader of the Imperial Army, so the generals and their soldiers all have to listen to me, regardless of their own thoughts on the matter. But obviously I’m not an idiot either, it’d be best to start out with just the threshecutioners while making the other factions of the Imperial Army more comfortable with clowns being near them and fighting with them. That being said, I currently have over thirty deployed threshecutioners alone, and seven of them right now are working towards subduing rebellious forces. It’s something that I trust them to be able to handle, but quite frankly, these things take a long ass time even for my best threshecutioners, and there are unfortunately times where there are fatalities on our side. So, this would be mutually beneficial for everyone involved.”

Prakis glares at you as Gamzee turns to look at you, and Prakis asks, “How so?”

“I get much appreciated back up for my threshecutioners, and possibly eventually the rest of the Imperial Army. You guys get to kill and get blood whenever the fucking hell you want, though giving a heads up to the threshecutioners would be a good idea, in general. You know, telling them when, where, who, and all that shit. Meanwhile, Kindness will see this as you clowns joining into her forces, finally becoming part of the Empire or whatever, even if that’s not entirely true,” you pause as a shiver goes down your spine, “Most importantly, she won’t care what happens, because as long as fighting forces are subdued, she is satisfied. Also, in general, the less she knows about what goes on while the army is fighting, the fucking better. She’s squeamish as hell and what she doesn’t know won’t fucking kill her.”

Prakis looks impressed as they say, “You basically have her as your puppet it seems.”

You scowl and say, “I wouldn’t put it like that. She’s soft, for all that she is literally the toughest troll in the Empire physically. She made me the leader of her army because she can’t handle personally being responsible for death, either enemy or ally. So, she trusts me to do all the shit she doesn’t have the expanding and collapsing bladder system for. She deals with most of the actual political bullshit, even if occasionally I help her with that too.”

Prakis hums a soft ‘um-hmm’ and you hesitate before saying, “Okay, seriously, I just know her well enough to find a way to work around her stupid fucking sensitive ego and manage to get shit done. Despite the fact that every asshole I know in the Empire can’t manage to act like the adults they are for half a fucking second.”

Prakis scoffs and says, “If you say so.”

You sigh and mutter, “I give the fuck up.”

Prakis laughs and says, “But your proposition sounds fairly interesting. How are we to know about the inner workings of the Empire and where fights are going on though, are you personally going to inform us?”

“That’ll be fairly easy, most of the Imperial Army has chats where they update any important shit. Each faction of the Imperial Army has a separate chat to keep it as not-confusing as possible,” you explain easily. “I’m the only one with access to all of those chats, while the other generals usually can only access their own troops’ chats, but I could give Grand Pulpiteer access to them all as well. Then he can tell you guys or whatever.”

Gamzee grabs both of your shoulders suddenly, and you blink at him in surprise as he says, “My brother, you are the brightest motherfucker I’ve known, and I value you so much.”

Your face heats up and you mutter, “Uh, thanks? I think. But you’re the one who gave me this idea in the first place, even if you didn’t realize it, so take some fucking credit for yourself.”

Gamzee inhales deeply, and for half a second, you think he’s about to cry. Then he hugs you as he purrs loudly, and you hug him back, still mostly confused. After Gamzee lets you go, smiling hugely at you, Prakis laughs and asks, “Then I guess that means you think this idea of his will work?”

Gamzee turns and says to Prakis, “I be knowing that if any opposition comes his way about it, he’ll be to somehow make sure as it turns out the way it was meant to be, through willpower alone if nothing else.”

He turns back to look at you, grinning softly as he says, “Not many as could be to tell my brother anything, not many as would he heed at their words even if they did, not many as could convince him to do otherwise once his resolve is set, not many as would be capable of stopping him through any motherfucking means.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there is a LOT of violence, blood, etc in this chapter  
> seriously, i upped the warnings and tags  
> so PLEASE, PLEASE read them b4 continuing bc i want y'all to know what you're signing up for  
> with sincere love, orangecreme

With some verbal gymnastics, you manage to procure Sollux’s help in building a husktop into the judgment chair in the Grand Tent. Convincing Gamzee to let you burrow it for a short while was as simple as asking, but Sollux is a huge pain in your horns about doing anything at first. You eventually yell him into actually doing what you originally asked, though not without him saying you owe him. God, the things you do for your moirail. So now Gamzee has a high-tech husktop with a holographic screen. The husktop isn’t really made for personal use, it’s meant for connection and communication, to and from the Empire and Imperial Army. He has access and alerts to mandates, distress signals, political discussions, reports of attacks, ongoing deployments, and various other things, just like you. In return, he went ahead and made a chat for just clowns that you have access to as well. There’s also a list of religious holidays clowns have – the carnivals – that he made. It’s very useful personally, even if some of the dates are estimations and are subject to change. Now you can expect your few faithful trolls’ departures ahead of time. Even if Shrila is still training, the triplets have returned to their usual threshecutioner duties, so either way it’s still good for future reference.

You have plans that once Shrila returns from his training, you’re of course promoting him to a lieutenant, and then you want to assign him as an official liaison of sorts between the church and the Imperial Army. His official duty would be to help clowns feel more comfortable and acclimate easier in or around the Imperial Army, while helping the Imperial Army become more accustomed to being near or fighting with clowns, as well as to help unfaithful trolls understand and respect the religion. You’re not as worried about him helping with the threshecutioners, they don’t need to be convinced of anything. They are usually pretty flexible thanks to your training, so they will see powerful allies, and will gain trust and respect through won battles. Or if nothing else, they will see that the means justify the end results. It’s only been about ten nights since you talked to the clowns about this solution, and while none of them have joined in on any threshecutioner fights yet, you are willing to wait a while for them to be more comfortable with the idea. They did seem interested and even somewhat relieved by your suggestion, so it’s looking like there’s a promising future for the Church fighting alongside the Imperial Army.

You have more important thing to be worrying about right now though, because even though the twenty-ninth dim perigee has just started, you received a distress signal from the planet that you had felt like needed more investigation. You had sent orders a while ago, telling your threshecutioner flaysquad to retreat and for a ruffiannihilator assaultgang to do a more thorough investigation, since Nepeta teaches them how to track and pursue. They are good at investigating in wild territory and are ferocious as fuck hunters. Seeing the signal made you quickly grab your old battleship crew, despite the danger of the sun, setting off towards the planet in a hurry with all the appropriate equipment.

You have your prong-held communication device turned on, so everyone can talk to each other at once, nugbone listening devices in. The generals are also in route, in case they are needed for back up, as per usual protocol for distress signals.

You land on the planet, everyone already wearing sungear as you exit the battleship. It’s simple enough gear, short hooded cloaks and sun-blocking googles are the two most important things, but you and your threshecutioners also have gloves and long sleeves, cloth wraps around your wrists, necks, and ankles to prevent as much sun exposure as possible. A few of you wear face scarfs too, just for an extra layer of protection, but you choose not to wear one this time.

As you exit, you announce to the others, “Alright, we just landed.”

“Would it be pointless to ask you to, uh, wait until we arrive,” Tavros asks through the prong-held communication device.

“It certainly would,” you reply easily. Then you turn to your threshecutioners and say to them, “Alright, stay prepared and cautious. We are a little way away from the distress signal, which appears to be in the woods just past this fielded area. Everyone watches out for each other, and keep your fucking sungear on.”

You turn around with a sharp step, pointing your sickle forward and commanding, “Now march!”

“Armourer and I are nearly here,” Nepeta says. “We can see the planet.”

“Good, when you get here prepare yourselves by putting on your sungear, then wait for my signal in case your backup is required,” you tell them.

Your threshecutioners stay silent and alert as you lead them, and you warily glance around, wondering what caused the ruffiannihilators to send the distress signal. It’s a short march to the woods, where the sun is at least partly blotted out by the foliage, and you say, “Don’t be fooled by the shade everyone. The sun is still as deadly as ever. The shade actually makes it more dangerous because you can think that you’re okay and then a breeze can shift the leaves and make the light go directly into your gander bulbs. Continue being cautious and if anyone sees, hears, or senses something, please feel free to alert the group. It is greatly encouraged that you do so, in fact.”

“We have landed quite stalwartly next to your battleship,” Equius says as you walk through the forest.

“Oh, I see the planet now,” Tavros says shortly after.

“Alright, we’ve nearly reached the location of the distress signal, and remember to have sungear for both your trolls, and beasts if necessary,” you tell them. When you push through some brush, you see a small crumbling building covered in vegetation. You are suspicious as fuck, but you say, “Spread out and secure the area, I’m going to check out this building.”

Your sickle is tight in your grip, as an unfamiliar teal troll pops their nugbone out of the building, squinting their gander bulbs against the light, grinning and exclaiming, “Martinet! We’re so glad you’re here!”

“What the hell happened,” you snap out, wondering where their fucking sungear is, “why did you send the distress signal?”

The troll glances back in the building before saying, “Our ship was damaged beyond repair and we were outnumbered!”

You pick up your pace at hearing that, asking, “Are any of you injured? Where’s your sungear? Give me a fucking full status report!”

You push past them to peer into the building, seeing a few mid-blood trolls and one rust. None of them are injured.

You hear Nepeta shout, “Wait, my ruffiannihilators wouldn’t be claw-ght without their sungear in dim season! Purr-lus they know to give a fur-ll status re-purr-t, especially if they sent a hiss-tress signal!”

Then you hear your threshecutioners shouting, “Martinet, we’re being ambushed!”

The rust smirks and you shout into your prong-held communication device, “It’s a trap! The distress signal was a trap! We need immediate back up!”

You get suspended by the rust’s psionics, unable to move as you growl, hearing Nepeta spit out, “Fuck.”

At the same time, Equius mutters, “Fiddlesticks.”

“On the way,” Tavros announces.

Your prong-held communication device gets yanked off you by the rust’s psionics, and they let it float above their prong, saying, “It’s quite a pleasure to meet you, Martinet. I did not think this plan would work as well as it has. However, I don’t believe you will need this anymore.”

They crush it with their psionics and let the remains fall to the ground before saying, “Secure him so he can’t fight against us.”

You snarl loudly, the rust using their psionics to tug you so you’re further in the building, your sickle getting wrenched out of your grip with the rust’s psionics as well. They grab it and say, “I’ll take this as well. It’ll do you no good in a few moments anyway. I’m sure you don’t mind.”

The rust continues to talk, as one of the others walk around behind you, saying something about, “It was quite the blow when we lost our foothold on that other planet, quite a shame what happened, really. One of our main goals was to manage to secure you, actually, which is why there was a retreat. They weren’t expecting to see you and had tried to regroup. Obviously for their detriment, but things seem to be working in our favor regardless.”

You don’t give a shit to what they’re saying, don’t even bother to think about what they are trying to imply, too pissed and hyper-focused as a restraint is locked around one of your ankles, a chain linking the cuff to the wall. That’s all they fucking do though and you _almost_ feel insulted. Fucking amateurs. It should be easy to escape something like this, even if it means losing your strut pod.

Once they believe you to be properly locked up, you are released from the rust’s psionics. You waste no time as you pull out another sickle and sink it deep into the gut of the troll who’s still behind you. That’ll teach these fuckers for not ensuring their captives are fully restrained and unarmed. They gasp as olive blood flows out the wound, trying to get away from you, but you draw a second sickle and slice their squeal pipette. You leave the sickle in their gut and ignore them as they collapse and bleed out, turning to the others and arming yourself once again, wielding two sickles for a rare change. You’ll do whatever it takes to kill these fucks and escape, and if escape looks impossible, you’ll do anything to ensure you don’t become a prisoner.

You dart forward and slice your blade through the teal’s face, making them shout and backpedal. You continue with your momentum, swinging both your blades at another olive, slashing their arm and part of their side, before turning one of your blades and stabbing into their thorax as hard as you can, putting your other sickle away, so you can use both your prongs to force your way past their ribs, before stepping back again. The olive chokes and stumbles back, and grabs at the sickle, seeming uncertain if they should keep it in, or take it out. The answer depends on if they want to die quicker or not, but you’re not going to tell them that as they seem to finally decide on pulling it out.

The chain on your ankle changes to shackles binding both your strut pods to the floor, your wrists heavy with an invisible weight, as other voices scream. When you focus on the sound of screaming, you hear a sickening crack and splatter. You spin towards the sound as you stand up, with your sickles gripped in your prongs once again, fangs bared as a feral snarl rattles in your thorax. You stare at a huge subjugglator, blood splattered on their armor, some even in their massive curling hair, gander bulbs bright red. It takes a long moment before you slowly realize that you’re staring at Gamzee.

You pant, trying to catch your breath. He’s wearing actual armor, what the hell, you didn’t know he even owned any. He’s also wearing weird skull-like armor around his jaw and over his cartilaginous nub, with throat stem plating connected to it. What he’s _not_ fucking wearing is goddamn sungear, the goddamn _idiot_. He seems to recognize you, so that’s good.

After a moment, you tug your leg against the chain and say, “I’d appreciate some help here.”

Gamzee blinks and looks down at your leg, like he didn’t notice the fucking chain, before he walks over and takes the chain closest to your ankle into his prongs, bending it until the metal snaps.

“Best I can do for now,” he tells you, which verifies to you that he is – what did he call it – holy raging right now. “We can get to taking the cuff off later.”

“Sounds reasonable,” you grumble out, still pissed as hell. You quickly access the extra sungear you packed because you are a paranoid motherfucker who takes extra precautions to be over-prepared for any situation, tossing a cloak and protective eyewear at him. He fumbles slightly before managing to catch it, seeming confused as you snap out, “Wear that before you go blind or burn your fucking skin. Now where did that fucking rust go, the goddamn coward.”

“Ain’t sure,” he says as he puts the sungear on. “We’ll find them for certain though.”

You nod and walk out of the building to see the chaotic melee outside. Arrows fly around, from Equius and his archeradicators you would bet. Nepeta is running around on all fours, fighting like a meowbeast, clawing and biting her enemies, occasionally roaring out a caterwaul, which is responded to by the ruffiannihilators yowling. The cavalreapers fight alongside and sometimes atop beasts, and your threshecutioners fight as is most advantageous to their weapons. Static charges the air as psionics from both sides fight, metal clashes as everyone growls and snarls, the stench of blood and death permeating the place as you hear screaming accompanied by manic laughter. The clowns are all not wearing sungear you notice, to your frustration. Your threshecutioners from your old battleship crew easily mesh with the clowns, defending them and fighting alongside them, probably having adjusted to fighting with them on that other planet so long ago. On the other prong, the other members of the Imperial Army stick closer to their own groups and generals, obviously nervous.

Gamzee finally emerges from the building wearing the sungear as he stands beside you. You’re unable to tell if you’re winning or losing, for the most part you can’t even tell which of the trolls are on your side. With most everyone wearing sungear, that means everyone blends into a blur of black with splashes of blood color. It is insane, but so is every damn fight.

You pull out another prong-held communication device, snarling into it, “Give the clowns fucking sungear, threshecutioners. We’re not done here yet. We’ve barely even started. The clowns need to be protected by the sun for however long this takes. These fuckers we’re fighting are about to regret what they did, if a dead troll can regret anything.”

Gamzee grins sharply, the metal teeth of his face armor making it look much more menacing than normal, growling, probably being loud enough to be heard through your prong-held communication device, “They gonna regret a whole fuck ton when they see all what be awaiting them after death.”

You grin wickedly, lacing your fingers through Gamzee’s and say, half to him and half to your prong-held communication device, “Let’s introduce these assholes to the Handmaid.”

Your communication device chirps back with several responses of, “Yes Martinet!”

Gamzee responds with a growl-purr as you put the prong-held communication device away, then he squeezes your prong slightly before bellowing out, “Honk honk motherfuckers!”

The immediate response is more honks and whoops, and you start laughing before you release Gamzee’s prong as you tell him, “Stay safe.”

“You too best friend,” he replies.

You dash forward and glance around at the closest combatants before taking a chunk out of a troll’s side, not letting them blindside a clown who’s got two trolls’ nugbones in their grip.

You hear nugbones smash together as you slice the troll, diagonally across their thorax, lobbing off half their squeal pipette with your second sickle. As they collapse, the clown turns and stares at you for a second before nodding at you. You nod back, then toss sungear at them wordlessly before turning and seeing. God _fucking_ damn it Nipham!

You race towards an enemy who’s overwhelming Nipham. You use the flats of both your sickles to stop the blade, shouting at Nipham, “Will you please use a weapon that you’re _actually_ _good_ at, for fuck’s sake!”

Nipham laughs nervously, holding that shitty stupid figurine that they were dared to use, muttering, “I, yeah, I’ll change it out for now.”

The figurine disappears, shortly replaced by a sword, which they then use to fight with you against the other troll. Once the enemy is dead, you turn to Nipham, and say, “I swear, if I see you using anything other than fist kind or sword kind, you’re going to experience some _comrade damage_. Do we understand each other Nipham?”

Nipham mock-salutes and undoubtedly winks as they smirk and say, “Yes Martinet.”

You roll your gander bulbs, and suddenly there’s this blur in the corner of your vision. When you look, that clown from earlier wearing the sungear you gave them, an enemy underneath them, choking on blood with knives stabbed directly into their lungs. The clown glances at you sideways, not moving from the dying troll under them. You nod at them and they smirk, before nodding back and turning their attention back to the troll under them.

With that, you go back to fighting as you best know how, which means you end up in the middle of the fray, hacking and slicing enemies as you help those who are being overwhelmed, and defending against those who try to attack you. You’re also giving out sungear as necessary, and your threshecutioners seem to have quickly followed your order, so the clowns are all soon wearing cloaks and protective eyewear as well as odd mis-matched armor sets. You’re panting, there’s blood all over your blade and on you as well, and you sometimes feel a prickle of fear against your spine. It’s weaker than the feeling you get in their church, strangely enough, so it’s easy as hell to ignore. You guess this is what it feels like when clowns are using their fear psionics around you but not _on_ you? Whatever, not important.

With the clowns, the fight doesn’t drag on for nearly as long as you were expecting. Soon enough, all the trolls you’re fighting against die, and everything winds down slowly as the dust and blood settles.

Gamzee jogs up to you, a manic grin on his face and you make a loud snarling-rumble of a purr, fangs bared as you turn to those under your command, ordering with a shout, “Imperial Army, we’re going to search this whole planet and kill all of the insurgents. Assume anyone not part of the Imperial Army or the faithful church is an enemy and kill them. No captives, no deserters, nothing but dead bodies.”

The members of the Imperial Army who aren’t part of your threshecutioners glance at each other and the clowns, obviously seeming to want to ask, ‘what about them’. The Generals at least have the decency to not look around nervously, but still seem to be wanting to ask you what you plan for the clowns. Joke’s on them, because that’s not up to you, and you won’t assume otherwise.

After a pause where the members of the Imperial army get more nervous, Gamzee speaks up, “We’re playing a deadly game of hide and go seek my family. Guess who’s it?”

The clowns laugh darkly, some of them answering, “Us.”

“Mind the Imperial Army though, as like I mentioned before,” he says. “They be playing the game alongside us tonight.”

You glance at Gamzee and he grins sharply, saying, “Ready whenever you are.”

“Let’s not waste time then,” you respond, turning to the others once again, “Imperial Army, march!”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter has flashbacks and mentions of capture and torture  
> again, please watch out and keep an eye on the tags and warnings  
> i really don't want to startle you guys with things you aren't expecting, because y'all are amazing  
> again with love, orangecreme

Once you’re completely certain that the planet has been rid of all enemy forces, the generals return to their own training compounds to get medical attention, and you return to yours for the same reason. After spending a short time organizing the medicullers, you and all your threshecutioners get patched up quickly from your latest battle. You make sure to bother the generals while you let the medicullers do their jobs, managing to get them to surrender the information that no one had died. While the originally deployed ruffiannihilators were in bad condition when they were found, everyone seems to have gotten treated soon enough, so they are no longer in danger of dying. You are lucky in that, and personally, you don’t doubt that the addition of the clowns helped. Speaking of clowns, you should make sure Gamzee and his family are alright.

“Best friend,” a familiar voice calls out, making you turn just in time to see Gamzee running up to you, still wearing his armor.

He lifts you up and spins you around slowly, and the face armor he’s wearing doesn’t stop you from seeing the huge grin on his face as he excitedly says, “You’re still alive!”

“I was still alive last time you saw me, which was less than fifteen minutes ago, in case you forgot asshole,” you reply, smiling despite yourself due to Gamzee's infectious excitement. “Also, we’re _both_ still alive, if you want to state the obvious.”

Gamzee rumbles out a purr, gander bulbs going soft and fond, his grin relaxing into a gentle smile that nearly disappears behind the face armor, before he puts you back down. You look him over, seeing that while he’s still covered in multiple colors, none of them are purple. Still, you ask him, “You okay? Do you need a mediculler? Or any of your family? Are they all alright?”

“Me and my family all came out well and fine, Messiahs’ praise,” Gamzee replies easily.

“Good to know,” you say while nodding. You pause before adding on, “Now I think it’s about time we clean this damned blood off us. Let’s get to my block so we can do that.”

Gamzee laughs and says, “Aight.”

You smile and head towards hallway four, asking Gamzee, “You want to use the ablutionblock first?”

“Nah, you all go ahead,” he replies as he walks next to you, “washing up takes longer for me, what all with my paint.”

You shrug and say, “Even so, if you wanted to go first, you could.”

Gamzee chuckles and says, “I’ll be fine with waiting ‘till you’re done.”

“If you insist,” you mutter while glancing at his blood-spattered armor.

You didn’t pay much attention to it while fighting, but now you see that it’s scale armor gauntlets and shoulder guards along with scale armor pants. The throat stem plating connected to his face armor is also scaled armor.

Gamzee glances at you sideways and smirks, asking, “Checking me out?”

“Fuck off,” you say, shoving his arm and continuing, “It’s just weird as hell to see you wearing real armor. I didn’t think you owned any, in fact I was beginning to think it was some weird clown way of disrespecting enemies or something.”

Gamzee snorts and says, “That’d be some hilarious shit as to do, but no. We ain’t _that_ fuckin’ pretentious, nor that stupid. When we know we be heading for battle, it’s required to prepare in all ways as are possible, and as I be certain you know, that includes the fuck outta armor.”

“But apparently sungear isn’t included,” you rhetorically ask, and Gamzee shrugs. You sigh and let it go for now. “What’s even with the face armor though,” you ask, having been curious about it for a while now.

“Half for scaring our enemies, half for protecting our holy faces,” Gamzee says, “plus protecting our squeal pipettes.”

“I feel I should also mention that I’m surprised that you didn’t manage to incorporate some kind of polka dot pattern or something,” you say with a smirk.

“Oh, brother Ladore got this motherfuckin sweet-ass rainbow armor some fucking how,” Gamzee says, sounding excited suddenly. “It’s fucking bitchtits best friend, you ain’t even understand!”

“I think I understand that you have a fixation for wearing the hemospectrum, as do most clowns apparently,” you mutter, not really bothered by his phrasing but wanting to fuck with him a little.

Gamzee grumbles, quietly saying, “Ain’t was meant as an insult. Just like, damn that shit looked good. I want to get mine all painted up now too. Probably not the exact same as brother Ladore’s, for all that looked nice. Might consider asking the painters about that some time right soon.”

You arrive at your block and unlock the door, letting Gamzee walk in first before closing the door behind you and locking the door once again.

You start taking off your armor, having taken off your sungear a while ago so the medicullers could heal you, grumbling, “It’s going to take forever to clean this out again, it’s so fucking annoying. Plus, everyone’s armor is going to need to be patched up, so I’m going to have to bother Kanaya again. I don’t understand how she doesn’t get annoyed with how often and how many suits of armor the threshecutioners have to get fixed, but like I could trust anyone to do it as good as she does.”

“Kanaya,” Gamzee pauses before asking, “that’s the jade blood Clothier, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “The title almost does her a disservice, really. She’s more than just a maker and seller of clothes. She’s basically creating troll fashion from nothing, plus she’s beautiful, refined as fuck, and a lot of other positive things that I can’t even list.”

Gamzee hums, then asks, “Hey wanna help me take off this face armor?”

“Oh sure,” you say, walking over to him.

He turns around and says, “There should be a strap back there as you can undo.”

You brush his hair aside to find the strap he must be talking about, unlatching it easily as you say, “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Gamzee says as he pulls the face armor off the rest of the way.

After it disappears into his sylladex, he says, “But she’s the one as you said was your ex?”

“Yeah,” you respond, “why?”

“Trying to make sure I remember who all we’re talking about here,” Gamzee says.

You frown slightly and ask, “Did you seriously forget her?”

“Not exact,” he says, pulling off his fingerless gauntlets, “forgot her name, but not her title or face. Kinda hard to forget the face of a rainbow drinker. Plus, she is pretty nice, kind of intimidating but she seems chill as fuck, wouldn’t mind chatting with her hatefriendly again. She got some decent jokes.”

You blink at Gamzee for a minute before asking, “Why do you think she’s a rainbow drinker?”

Gamzee turns to look at you, muttering, “Shit, she basically fucking admitted it. Mentioning all how a beacon of light was to be an adequate comparison, even though she looked all as like a normal troll. Plus, her fangs be obviously shaped to look as like a rainbow drinker’s. Is it some thing as she ain’t told others or some shit? If so, guess I’m sorry for all revealing it if she wanted it kept secret.”

You hesitate before saying, “It’s not exactly a secret or anything. On the same prong though, I only know that she told Tavros, while Eridan, Vriska, and I know because we. Uh. Well, I guess Vriska and Eridan were there when she ‘turned’, so to say. Then I saw her before she learned to control the glow, so that was, you know, a little hard to deny at that point. Not that Kanaya was trying to deny it.”

Gamzee blinks and mutters, “Wait, what? I ain’t even know rainbow drinkers change, I thought they were just, you know, like that. What all happened? And what all does the cerulean motherfucker and Eridan got to do with it?”

You shrug, saying, “I’m not totally sure to be honest, Kanaya has never been that clear about the details of how she became a rainbow drinker. All I know for sure is that she wasn’t a rainbow drinker when we were six. Eridan’s and Vriska’s involvement, as far as Kanaya told me, was that they put a mother grub and matriorbs in danger.”

Gamzee opens his talk blaster, not saying anything for a minute before asking, “Wait, is this all being about that shit you mentioned on once, of how all your hatefriends would cause the extinction of our species?”

You hum for a moment before hissing out, “There are multiple examples of that, but yes, this is one. I may not fully understand what went on, but Kanaya has mentioned that this is also what caused her to decide to start an auspisticism with them.”

Gamzee scowls until he eventually says, “What the _fuck_ is wrong with them?”

“I constantly wonder that, about all of my hatefriends, welcome to my fucking world,” you grumble out.

Gamzee shakes his nugbone, muttering, “Messiahs, that is some odd fucking shit. I ain’t could even imagine my family doing _anything_ similar at each other.”

You shrug, saying, “Either way, now that we’re done discussing one of the worst things that my hatefriends did when I wasn’t around, I’m going to wash this blood off me. I’ll try to be quick. Oh, and if you or your family still have the sungear we hastily handed out earlier, you guys can keep it if you need to.”

“Aight. Take as long as you need,” Gamzee replies, “I’ll be –”

“Standing in one spot and not getting blood everywhere,” you interrupt him with a hiss.

Gamzee snorts and laughs, managing to say, “Yeah, sure, can do.”

“You fucking better,” you growl, pointing at him while walking to your respiteblock. Gamzee laughs more, giving you a thumbs-up before you go into your respiteblock. You go into the ablutionblock which is connected to your respiteblock, closing the door behind you and taking off your clothes quickly before getting into the ablution trap.

You waste no time cleaning up, glad to be getting the blood off you. You lather your hair and scrub your skin clean, careful of your new wounds, and pausing as you notice that you still have the cuff from earlier around your ankle. Everything from earlier comes rushing back, the words and the meanings and fucking _everything_. It doesn’t stop there though, and dark memories blur your vision. Your prongs begin to shake, while you try to take deep breaths and not panic. You mentally stomp down on your fear and finish cleaning up, getting out of the ablution trap and drying off with a towel quickly. You ignore a phantom weight of heavy shackles around your wrists and ankles as you struggle to put on clothes. You can’t focus enough and keep losing your balance, cursing under your breath and growling at yourself for being useless as your pump biscuit pounds rapidly from inside your thorax.

There’s a light knock on the door and you hear Gamzee’s voice ask, “Karkat? You okay in there?”

He must have felt your fear and gotten worried. You sigh and say, “Just fucking fine.”

You growl lowly and hiss under your breath, “Except for this stupid cuff around my ankle.”

“Oh shit, I kinda forgot about that,” Gamzee says. “Sorry. I can get it off for you now.”

You scoff and say, “I forgot about it until now too, don’t be sorry.”

There’s a pause before Gamzee asks, “So should I all help you get that off?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute. I’m fighting my clothes at the moment,” you mutter.

Gamzee chuckles and asks, “Why are your clothes getting their fight on about?”

You hesitate before saying, “Well, it’s more fighting my pan, if we’re being literal here. It won’t make my body do what I want it to.”

“That,” Gamzee pauses, “don’t sound fine best friend.”

You shrug, then remember he can’t see you. “I’m used to it. It happens sometimes.”

Silence follows and once again, talking with Gamzee has helped your pan focus on here and now, and you manage to pull on your underwear finally.

“What all is exact happening,” Gamzee asks as you hear a soft thump against the wall.

You turn to the door and ask, “What are you doing?”

“Sitting against the wall and trying to help you,” Gamzee replies quietly.

You hesitate for a long moment, glancing at your scarred forearms and stomach, most of them old battle wounds, a few water-proof bandages covering the ones you just got. You sigh and sit against the wall as well, saying, “Well fuck, it’s basically done now. But my pan was just recalling some bullshit from my past, and making me uselessly freak out over basically fucking nothing. Sucks ass, but I can’t do much about it. The whole fucking –”

You wave an arm through the air vaguely, “Being shackled thing, kind of –”

You trail off, realizing he has no idea why that would bother you.

“Yeah that was some fucked shit,” Gamzee agrees. “The way you brutal killed them shits as locked you up was something though, damn. I only saw the carnage, but that true was some wicked slaughtering what you done did, even all chained up as you had been.”

You stay silent for a long time, remembering shackles that you hadn’t been able to fight against or escape. Being chained to a wall by the ankle was nothing like then, but even so it was too close, too familiar. That’s why you fought so carelessly and heartlessly, why you were planning to escape even if it meant chopping off a limb, why you were willing to resort to killing yourself if necessary.

Now that you remember what the rust said though, you want to make sure Gamzee knows the implications. You take a breath before saying, “I think those fucks were related to the ones on that random planet by your church. The rust seemed to be some sort of leader and said something that I now realize means that they might’ve been coincidentally connected.”

There’s a pause before Gamzee says, “Well, it ain’t matter now, right? Seeing as they all be dead and shit, like all you had said once? Unless it seemed as like they had more but even so, I ain’t bound to getting fear on over what all they might do. They’ll do as they see fit and they’ll motherfucking die of it, one way or another. Not like that there’ll be dismay fluid falling out these here gander bulbs of mine over them fucks. Messiahs’ well see as they get all what’s coming to them in eventuality.”

You scoff slightly, glad he seems unworried about it this time around, even if it’s only a vague possibility at this point. You _want_  to say that this is the last of them and you won't have to worry about them at all anymore, but that's what you thought last fucking time. Unfortunately, there is jack-all you can really do about it at this point, so you have to sit and wait for them to make a move. Of course that's assuming they have any trolls left to make a move  _with_ , and okay you're getting nowhere with this train of thought, focus on what's relevant to your current situation. Your current situation being you trying to finally own up and tell Gamzee about your past.

For a long few minutes, you hesitate, struggling to say what you want to say, voice cracking as you speak up, “Gamzee, I.”

“Karkat, best friend, those motherfuckers ain’t gonna up and fucking ever do that again,” Gamzee says, obviously sensing your returning fear, “you’re safe now. I’ll make damned motherfucking sure of that all personal if need arises, you hear me?”

You bark out a callous laugh, snarling, “What they did was fucking _nothing_ Gamzee. It was, it really was. It was basically a fucking _insult_ compared to what I’ve been through before. Fuckers shouldn’t have thought something like that would _ever_ stop me. Hubris is the ultimate downfall for all who think they’re hot shit."

“True as fuck my brother,” Gamzee responds easily, and just hearing his voice makes something inside you calm down, take a deep breath, and think a bit clearer.

You breathe for a minute before quietly saying, “Sorry about getting sidetracked like that. I had something I was trying to tell you.”

“What’s you wanting to say,” Gamzee asks.

You close your gander bulbs and take a deep breath before saying, “I was a prisoner of the Condesce for a sweep.”

There’s no sound from Gamzee for a long time and you say, “I have the scars to prove it.”

“No, I,” Gamzee starts, before going quiet as he says, “I believe you. I just ain’t sure, like what can I even say?”

You laugh quietly, muttering, “You don’t have to say anything.”

You pause before going on to say, “I just wanted to tell you. That is why being chained up fucked with me. That’s why this stupid fucking cuff freaks me out so much, even though I’m not bound anymore. She didn’t do the same things to me as she did to Helmsman, and not even close to as long as Helmsman, but. Torture is torture.”

Seeing her for the first time had been petrifying. Some instinctual thing had screamed at you _obey_ _submit_ _bow_. Any of the wiggler thoughts about her managing to like you despite your mutation – really, how much fucking arrogance did you have to think that dumb shit – any thoughts about how badass and in control and _beautiful_ she was; all of it was replaced by _obey submit bow, obey submit bow, obey submit bow, obey submit bow, DIE_.

You grit your teeth slightly and force yourself to continue, “I should be dead. A thousand times over, I should already be dead. Just like with Helmsman, she didn’t let me die. My pan is fucked up because of what she did, I’m not the same troll I was when I was eight.”

It’s quiet for a minute before Gamzee says, “Well I didn’t know you then.”

You blink, and he continues, “I only knew at you from after all that. So ain’t nothing been changed. I’m glad as hell what you told me, don’t mistake or doubt on that. But, you’re still the same troll I met during the recent conscription. The same troll who gained my trust and respect, the same troll as I fell deep into pity for. I’m pale as fuck for you as you are.”

You rub at your gander bulbs, wiping away some dismay fluid that had started to gather there, not responding for a while. After a minute, Gamzee speaks quietly, “If any fucking thing, I think you stronger than before. You’re strong as diamonds Karkat.”

You smile slightly and close your gander bulbs, quietly asking, “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah best friend.” You chuckle softly at his reply, but before you can get too comfortable, Gamzee’s voice asks, “Now are you gonna get out here so I can get that thing off you or what?”

You snort, standing up as you say, “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

You pull on the rest of your clothes before leaving the ablutionblock, and Gamzee is sitting by the door, smiling up at you. You smile back slightly, he grins before glancing at your ankle, leaning forward and carefully snapping the metal, saying, “There, done.”

He looks up at you and you lean down to kiss his forehead before quietly saying, “Thank you.”

Gamzee purrs loudly and reaches for you, but you step back, saying, “Nope, clean that disgusting blood off first.”

Gamzee laughs and mutters, “Unfair my brother.”

You shrug and walk away, saying, “I’ll be waiting for you on the pile.”

You leave your respiteblock and walk over to your pile, staring at it distractedly. It still has mostly the same stuff it did as when you two first built it, but Gamzee has added some of his honk horns to it, apparently ‘in remembrance of the first pile you two slept in’. You had flipped out at him about that, emphasizing how much that had been _platonic_ and a _last fucking resort_ , but he laughed and muttered about how both of you had also realized your pale feelings that day, and you effectively shut up. Also, you know he enjoys the honk horns, so you tolerate them for him. There’s only a few so neither of you get startled by sudden noises while trying to relax. Both of you had agreed that would be super fucking shitty and contradictory to the purpose of your pile.

You climb into the pile and get comfortable, remembering how when he said something like ‘mutual respect friends’ all that time ago, you had thought that he had probably felt pale for you in the moment because of how you flipped out in the throne block. You figured he’d get disinterested eventually, that your shitty personality in addition to snappish and rude language would chase him off or make him go black. That’s what _happened_ , all the time. Trolls tried to be hatefriends or red quadrants, only for your personality to make them flip black, and then when you further proved to be too annoying even for romantic hate, they lost interest. Kanaya was the only exception, but then you broke up with her, and she moved on. You moved on too, but the point stands that the _only_ troll who didn’t get tired of you was _her_. Not just when you were six, but while you were training as a threshecutioner, and while you were raising through the ranks of the army, and while you’ve been the general, and while you’ve been the leader of the Imperial Army. Since earning your title, it is more often that young dumb trolls will come in, thinking your attempts to stop them from killing each other are you sincerely flirting, before taking a while to realize that you aren’t interested in them like that.

You had gotten used to trolls getting fleeting crushes on you, so you figured what the fuck, why not. Might as well ride out what he offered as long as you could, he was actually your age and seemed to be offering at least platonic companionship. And you can admit, after being stressed out and fighting against yourself and everything else on your own, you wanted to try to relax for once. And it wasn’t like anyone _else_ your age was exactly vying for your pale quadrant.

You didn’t expect to actually start crushing on him. When you were about to walk off into the sunrise like an impatient idiot, he had talked you down and stopped you from doing anything stupid. After you two had gotten safe inside that cave, he asked if you had anything to sleep in, before offering his shitty horn pile to you. That’s when you noticed that he had purple on his shirt, and a tear through the cloth. Then he just fucking _brushed it off_. That still boggles your pan sometimes, that he’d not care about bleeding from a wound unless he got dizzy from it. You reacted without thought when you offered to patch him up, it was something you did for your threshecutioners, or yourself, when you were in a scenario where you couldn’t get medical attention.

He agreed and took off his shirt, not a romantic thought in your pan as you started to patch him up, knowing better than to try to stitch up another troll. You did it to yourself a few times in dire situations, so you knew _how_ to, but wouldn’t risk it on anyone beside yourself, since the pain could make them lash out. You idly muttered to him to distract him as you worked, telling him what you were doing, apologizing when you startled him with your temperature. He made a stupid joke about your temper, like you hadn’t ever heard _that_ one before, and you joked back, some equally asinine temperature related thing, to which he started laughing loudly, all while wincing and muttering ‘ow’ from the pain of laughing. This absurdity went on for a while before you, in one of your infinitely stupid and self-imploding acts, shoved at him before pinching his grub scar, making him squeak and look at you. When your gander bulbs met, he froze, and his breath stopped. You kind of froze too, internally screaming with embarrassment as you replayed everything you just did, how much _all of it_ was blatant pale flirting, how much you actually _enjoyed_ being silly and relaxed with him. It was, fuck, it was a lot. You looked away and tried to ignore it before focusing back on your _completely platonic_ patching of his wound.

You still told him what you were doing, but you tried to finish it up as quickly as you could, your prongs shaking as you worked on his back. Then he put his shirt back on and fucking offered to sleep in a _pile_ with you. Of course you freaked out, only for him to go tense and mutter that he basically hadn’t meant it like that. You had cursed yourself for assuming things, and basically threw your arms up mentally in surrender, like ‘fuck it, this might as well happen’. Because, honestly, how much choice did you even  _have_ at that point? So you slept in an uncomfortable and loud pile of fucking honk horns, as far away from him as possible.

And from then on, you basically hopelessly crushed on his dumb ass, still thinking it would never happen, and wanting to rip your pump biscuit out and stomp it into the ground until you stopped _feeling things_.

Then, he had flipped out and lost control of his psionics. You had tried to help him out, just like he had once helped you, and you eventually took him to the block he had stayed in before, randomly ranting to him, making sure he stayed in his pan. When he finally talked, he had told you he was pale for you, before fucking _apologizing_ about it. So you confessed that you felt pale for him too, angry because he apologized about something that you had been hoping for – even if you had really been trying to _not_ hope for it, but whatever.

And from the moment you told him you shared those feelings, he has never stopped being romantic or pitying you with all of his diamond. It might’ve taken you a little while to loosen up and be as romantic as he has always been, but you have never stopped feeling pale pity for his reckless psychotic clown ass. The nostalgia makes you purr quietly, gander bulbs closed with a smile on your face.

You nestle into the pile further and sigh happily, Gamzee’s familiar loud rumble-purr sounding as he says, “Glad to see you got all comfortable while I was gone. What were you all doing?”

You open your gander bulbs, looking at him and murmuring, “I was thinking about my endearing as hell moirail and how all this shit started. Got a fucking problem with it?”

Gamzee smiles, walking over as he replies quietly, “None at all.”

Gamzee gets in the pile beside you, cuddling close to you while purring loudly. You hold him and purr back quietly, feeling secure and serene. After the hype and excitement of battle, you are sore as hell and exhausted, so you can feel yourself starting to drift off quickly.

“Hey Karkat,” Gamzee whispers.

You hum and yawn before asking softly, “What?”

Gamzee doesn’t respond right away and you struggle to not fall asleep.

Finally, Gamzee hides his face against your shoulder before muttering, “I used to eat sopor.”

Your pan snaps awake at that, and he quietly goes on, “Was the worst most stupid shit as I ever got to do. Got addicted to it and all made my pan go wrong and decayed. Fucked my pan up in ways as I can’t even full determine ‘cause I was so fucking young when I started that shit. Spent two sweeps in church getting the toxin out my system, and ain’t never touched no sopor in any manner since. The motherfucker I was when I was six is long dead in that aspect, and I prefer it that motherfucking way. Which is why I hate so bad reading how I used to act, and why I freaked out when Nitram said as I was the same as then. I ain’t ever want to go back to that, I’d rather be taken to the Carnival of Afterlife. Though I won’t lie and say as my pan don’t up and crave the shit on rare occasions. Addiction is a bitch ass motherfucker.”

Gamzee stops, holds you tighter as he says, “I, hope you ain’t think that’s pathetic.”

“No,” you answer quickly, hugging him back tightly. “Never. Like you said, I never knew you then. Nothing about you has changed and like fuck I’d feel any different now. You’ll always be pitiful, and nothing is going to ever change between us because of the past, I promise. I’m glad you told me. You didn’t have to, but I am thankful that you told me this.”

“I wanted to,” Gamzee murmurs.

You swallow and can’t help the quiet, “I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you.”

“I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you either,” Gamzee returns softly. You nuzzle against him and purr, Gamzee’s rumbling purr joining yours shortly.

“I’m so fucking pale for you,” you tell him honestly.

Gamzee whispers, “Pale for you too, my diamond brother as is so strong and fierce and bright and warm and –”

Gamzee stops suddenly, hesitating before speaking like he’s having a revelation, “You’re like the sun. Like a star best friend.”

You have no fucking clue what he means by that. After a moment, you ask, “Gamzee?”

“Sorry,” he mutters, sounding a bit distracted. “Got all to thinking at myself a little.”

“Please, feel free to keep it locked up inside yourself and never tell me about it,” you gripe sarcastically. Gamzee laughs and you try to glare at him, but get interrupted by a yawn. “Fuck, whatever, I trust you’ll tell me later if it’s really important. I’m too fucking tired.”

Gamzee hums and yawns as well before muttering, “Then all get yourself in your ‘coon. I’ll sleep on our pile.”

“Actually, it’s not a good idea to sleep in sopor since I have wounds,” you tell him truthfully. “So, is it okay if I sleep here with you?”

Gamzee smiles and says, “Yeah, that’s all fine.”

You smile and close your gander bulbs, purring softly, ready to drift off to sleep with your moirail.

“Wait one second,” you say, sitting up suddenly.

Gamzee jolts and blinks at you, and you take your mediculler kit out of your sylladex, saying, “You were out in direct sunlight, and while I can’t see any burns right now, it’s a good idea to put some burn salve over your skin either way. Even with all the gear I had on, I should put some on as well, mostly on my face.”

Gamzee frowns, and you say, “No, we can’t wait until tomorrow. Unless you want one or both of us to wake up and have skin peeling off?”

Gamzee shudders and says, “Fuck no. Aight, let’s get this shit done. Show me all what I need to do.”


	23. Chapter 23

You wake up, immediately groaning as your body complains of soreness and pain. The burn salve that you put on last night dried over day, which is mildly uncomfortable, but better than stinging pain and welts from burns. Gamzee’s skin seems to have dark purple splotches in spots from mild burns, but nothing worse than that so far, which means this is as bad as it should get. You probably got him the sungear just in time to prevent him from burning up completely. You just hope it’s the same story for his family. It’s nothing that would kill them, since they did all eventually get sungear on, but damn would it hurt.

Gamzee stirs from where he was holding you, sitting up half way, and holy shit what the fuck is up with his hair. It’s a mess, covering one of his gander bulbs, sticking out at odd angles, and even clinging to his makeup. He blows air out his talk blaster, frowning as he seems to be trying to get something out of his mouth. Probably fucking hair, hell.

“Holy shit you need to brush your hair, it’s a fucking mess,” you mutter.

He grunts and looks at you, gander bulbs still looking bleary as he murmurs, “Would a brother deign to help a motherfucker out with that?”

You snort, saying, “I might not be good at it, I might end up accidently pulling your hair, but yeah, I wouldn’t mind. So, if you really want me to, why the fuck not.”

Gamzee blinks slowly, then asks, “Am I still sleeping?”

You reach over and pinch right about where his grub scar is, making him flinch and squeak before he hisses out, “Damn my brother! Ain’t needed to do that shit!”

You smirk and say, “I was just trying to be helpful by showing you that you’re awake.”

Gamzee huffs air through his talk blaster to move some of his hair out of his gander bulb, looking unimpressed even as it falls back to where it was before. After a second, his sylladex suddenly appears and you hiss, squinting as you bat at his shoulder, “Too fucking early in the night for that shit Gamzee, what have I told you about your dumbass sylladex?”

Gamzee snickers, muttering, “Was just trying to all help my bro find a brush. Ain’t one in here though all apparently.”

With that, the colors disappear, and you glare at him for a minute before saying, “You knew there wasn’t one in there Gamzee.”

He smiles and says, “I ain’t put one in there, no, but all sometimes shit all appears miraculously in my ‘dex when I need it.”

You scowl at him as he pauses with a hum, mumbling to himself, “And I guess all does disappear sometimes too.”

He shrugs and says, “What all can you be doing? Messiahs got their whimsies.”

“Right,” you say flatly, not even bothering to be curious. It’ll just give you a headache this early in the night. You sigh and say, “Well I know I don’t have one in my sylladex, but there’s at least one in my respiteblock.”

With that you sit up, climbing off the pile, stretching your arms and taking a deep breath when you stand. _Fuck_ , are you sore from fighting. You walk into your block and grab your brush, hoping it’ll work with how terrible Gamzee’s hair is. You thought yours was bad before you met him, god damn. You walk back to the pile, only to see Gamzee sitting up fully now, at the edge of the pile. You crawl up and sit behind him, trying your best to be careful as you brush his hair. Gamzee purrs that loud rattling purr of his, and you purr back, content and happy.

After a minute or two of sitting in silence, you speak up quietly, “When I was eight, after the trials and all that bullshit, I managed to get into the threshecutioners.”

“Karkat,” Gamzee says quietly, “You ain’t have no need to explain.”

You sigh and mutter, “Yeah, I know that. But I still want to explain this to you because. It’s. Important and. I want you to know.”

Gamzee seems to hesitate before he finally whispers, “I’ll be listening at you always, but that ain’t meaning as you gotta talk or that you can’t stop.”

You huff out a small laugh, kind of relieved to hear that, “Thanks, but I don’t think I’m going to stop. So, uh.”

You glance away, “Prepare yourself because this is, really hard to talk about and probably just as hard to listen to.”

Gamzee hums softly, sounding concerned, and you take a moment, continuing to brush his hair, before starting where you left off, “I had just recently turned eight because my wriggling day is later than the assholes I call my hatefriends. A few of them were nine by the time they faced the trails, but that didn’t matter. I was technically old enough and went through conscription, managing to get into the threshecutioners like I had hoped when I was younger. It was tough, and I got attention because I was good, better than some of the others around my age.”

You pause to take a breath before you try to explain everything as quickly as possible, “But not perfect. Inevitably, I got injured. Took nearly half a sweep, but. Once they saw my color they. Well, first they tried to kill me themselves. My flaysquad turned on me and I killed them all. By that time the general had. Alerted the Condesce.”

You grit your teeth and go on, “She killed the general. For harboring a mutant. Then took me in. As her prisoner. She tortured me for fun.”

Gamzee reaches back and places his prong on your leg, and you huff out some laughs for no fucking reason, waving the brush around as you say, “I was shackled and unable to escape. She made me bleed and cry, hurting and mocking me in just about every way imaginable, until she got bored and left. Usually she left to do terrible things to Helmsman. Sometimes he would even distract her so that I would stop getting hurt, and I still feel guilty over that. He couldn’t always save me though, and I think he feels a little bit guilty about that too. Either way, she would do that shit until I was nearly dead. Or entirely dead for a brief time, I don’t even know honestly. But then she would do that fucking _thing_ where she brought life back into me. Dead or not, it was very fucking painful.”

Gamzee begins to growl lowly, and you hesitate slightly before saying, “She said and did a lot of shit that still fucks with me. Shackles and the fucking cherries bullshit for instance. That’s the reason I freaked the fuck out about being bound. I was ready to do anything to escape, _anything_ to not be a prisoner again. Also, her throne room, yeah, apparently that’s her favorite torture chamber. Or at least it was, when she did it to me. So that hopefully explains that thing from a while ago.”

“Motherfuck,” Gamzee hisses out, still growling slightly as you go back to brushing his hair.

“Then Sollux and Feferi rescued Helmsman and me after the Condense was dead. As soon as I was free I, I threw myself back onto the battlefield. For a while, that was my own stupid fucking way of dealing with it. I fucking ignored it and pushed myself to fight, to prove that I wasn’t broken or weak or anything else that it felt like Sollux or Feferi thought of me because of how they found me, I fought to prove to others and myself that I could do what they said I fucking couldn’t. It was stupid and reckless, but it was the only way I knew how to deal with it. Pushing myself, and pushing myself, because nothing fucking mattered, because I should’ve already died. I never intended to make it to the rank of general, I never intended to be the fucking leader of this looneyblock Imperial Army, but here I fucking am. Over all, I trained as a threshecutioner for less than a sweep before I was named the general and got the title of Martinet. That was the only thing that stopped my recklessness. Seeing others trust and believe in me, it made me stop avoiding my past and start dealing with it more healthily. Which is how I knew running from your past helps an exact total of fuck-all.”

Gamzee suddenly turns around, surprising you by somehow avoiding pulling his own hair, hugging you and burying his face into your chest. You blink at him before stroking his hair lightly with your prong and saying softly, “You’re the only troll I’ve willingly told all of this.”

Gamzee pulls back to look at you, dismay fluid already falling down his cheeks, talk blaster open for a moment before he mutters, “I’m so fucking pale for you.”

You laugh, running a prong into his still mostly messy hair, holding the back of his nugbone as you place your forehead on his softly, saying with a smile, “I hope so, because I’m pale for you too.”

Gamzee wheezes out some laughter, and you purr softly as he does so, dismay fluid still falling out of his gander bulbs. You kiss his cheek and murmur, “You’re going to eventually smudge your paint if you don’t stop leaking dismay fluid, you big goddamn crybaby.”

Gamzee snorts thickly while grinning before putting his face against your shoulder. You roll your gander bulbs, saying, “Are you done using me like a cuddle plush? I’ve barely even _started_ brushing your hair Gamzee, come on.”

Gamzee snickers and squeezes you tighter for a second, saying, “Hell nah best friend, you’re the choicest cuddle plush and I ain’t letting go now or any time soon.”

You huff and attempt to tackle his hair from here, and as awkward as the angle is, it’s still only marginally more difficult than before.

“You know,” you say, mostly bullshitting and trying to make a dumb joke that he’ll almost undoubtedly laugh at, “I think I might have to get brush kind as a strife specibus if I want to get through this frizzy clown mop.”

Gamzee predictably laughs, saying, “May be so. Shit’s a righteously riotous mess.”

You groan and go back to your impossible task, determined to make it look even the slightest bit taken care of. Gamzee holds you and purrs loudly, seeming satisfied as you quietly brush his hair. It’s peaceful, sitting here and being held as you attempt to brush his hair into some semblance of tidiness.

After a long time of relaxed quiet, Gamzee speaks up quietly, “Used to bake the sopor out my cocoon in pie tins, and ate it as like that was something any motherfucker ought to be doing.”

You halt totally, looking down at him as much as you can before muttering, “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I know,” Gamzee mutters, keeping his face tucked against your shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, you go back to brushing his hair.

Gamzee starts speaking again, “Both past and present memories be hard to remember, but I have always got my recall on fairly familiar as to how goddamned fucked up out my own pan I was being. Didn’t know it back then, but back then I didn’t know shit between my lusus ain’t never saying nothing beyond bare motherfucking basic survival, and my own stupidity of eating shit as ain’t should be ate. Ain’t like there was nothing else to eat in my shithole wiggler hive, but I ain’t knowing if that’s any good excuse. The motherfucker as drugged himself stupid to feel what he thought was happiness as was all actually being to a fucking lie of numbness, he ain’t never coming back, not if I got fuck-all to say on it. No idea or knowledge on me do I got, on of if sleeping in it will have negative or unwanted effects at me, but not only do I got no desire to be trying or testing it out, it’s a matter of motherfucking principle for me. I ain’t gonna up and start now, after all I went through to kick that shit the motherfuck outta my goddamn life.”

Gamzee hesitates before mumbling against your shoulder, “As for the damned beast as was meant to be raising me, ain’t all too much as I could all be to tell at you about my dad in truth. Was an enormous half fish and half goat, with horns all similar as to me, all swimming in the ocean and shit. Motherfucker hardly ever got to being around, left me alone for perigees at a time with little to no food as to eat upon. I ain’t even know if he’s being alive or not, mysterious bastard as he is or was being.”

You halt your actions once again and Gamzee sighs, moving his nugbone to face away from you before continuing quietly, “Motherfucking useless bastard as he was to me, I still fucking miss him. Like a lusus-shaped motherfucking tear into my soul. Used to watch and wait for him out on my shoreline. Used to get disappointed a lot. Fucking dumb ass wiggler I was, never lost hope despite knowing somewhere deep inside me that he wouldn’t come, except at his own whims. Left me time and again, all on my lonesome. Started when I was young, not too long after I first got to having a proper troll body. He’d go out and come back with some thing as for me to figure out how the fuck to make to being something edible. Took a while to learn that shit, since he wasn’t of kind as to teach. Him leaving became a more oft thing to occur, and food became less of a give and more of a gamble. Eating became a rare thing eventually. Then one night I got all dumb and reckless, and ate after some of what sopor in my cocoon. Wasn’t even baked that first time, and motherfuck was it nasty and strong.”

You hesitate to say anything, because really, what the fuck _can_ you say to that? His lusus basically fucking abandoned him, leaving him to raise himself, with nothing to eat but goddamn sopor. That explains a lot, and it fucking _hurts_ to realize how much it explains.

“You be one of the only trolls as know at all this shit,” Gamzee says after a second, pausing before muttering, “Well, Prakis knows on it, but they all saved me from my own dumb shit, back when I was six.”

“How did they save you,” you ask, confused as you put the brush into your sylladex, not wanting to be distracted from what he’s telling you.

Gamzee shrugs, “They were all being at gathering up young’uns at the time, and me being a dumb drugged fuck as was getting hassled by drones. All they knew of me at what time, was as I was a younger faithful not ready for conscription, about to get killed for wandering too close to my family. They rushed over and barely managed to shoo the Drone off, before turning to try to get their stern lecture on at me about being a wandering dumb wiggler. Once they made notice on my sign, we spoke a short while, and I all guess as I mentioned my lusus wasn’t hardly ever to be coming around, so they decided to take me off planet despite my age, because they refused to let their family rot in isolation. Once they found on at my addiction, they all scolded me right proper, then them and a few other older family members all went at helping me get sober.”

He hesitates before muttering, “It was fucking terrible Karkat. Without the toxin in me, numbing me to every fucking thing, I didn’t know how to deal with no kind of emotions. Fear, sadness, anger, even happiness. Felt like too much, they all done took over and made me go blind with rages. I couldn’t fucking handle the feeling of, of motherfucking _feeling_. Felt like I was burning and itching underneath my skin near constant, felt like there were blades in the back of my gander bulbs and brambles in my think pan, memories just up and fucking disappeared into holes the sopor left behind. I felt like I was losing myself, like I didn’t know who the motherfuck I was anymore, like a stranger was up and taking over my body. My faith and my paint were all I still had of myself through all of that. It’s all being the reason why I couldn’t and didn’t want to change my holy face, even after being allowed to go through initiation when I was about eight, after I went and proper kicked sopor to the motherfucking curb with my family’s help. Much as I hated it sometimes, I can never thank my family enough for what they did, and I will always be grateful that the Messiahs were watching out for me that night.”

“It doesn’t seem fair that you had to deal with that,” you say finally, hurting and aching for your moirail. This isn’t something you can easily fix, and you wish that you could just change what happened to him, erase all the bad shit. Maybe take it for yourself, fuck if you really care, so long as Gamzee doesn’t have to hurt like this.

Gamzee scoffs and bitterly says, “Messiahs’ behold as life ain’t being fair, and yet the planets all do keep on motherfucking turning.”

Once again, you find yourself with no real response, instead just feeling like you fucked up big time.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you say, regretting asking him at fucking all.

Gamzee pulls back to look at you and says, “Ain’t nothing as you have need to apologize for Karkat. You had no control or responsibility over that shit happening at me.”

You look away and after a moment of silence, Gamzee asks, “What even is going on in that pan of yours right now best friend?”

You look at him, confused as he continues, “I’m trying to all get my understand on it, just what all the fuck you be thinking, but I can’t even fuckin imagine what all you could to be thinking at. Can’t fucking wrap my pan around it in the least.”

You laugh sharply, looking away as you mutter, “That I fucked up, obviously. That I managed to once again spectacularly ruin something that. That.”

You swallow and say quietly, “Something that I care about.”

You take a breath and close your gander bulbs, ranting without thinking, “I wrecked something important to me, which is a surprise to absolutely fucking no one in existence. Just add it to the fucking list, it might take a while to find the end of it, and all of it was my own fucking fault. Karkat Vantas, aka the universe’s fucking joke of a troll. A blunder from the second he was hatched, a useless asshole who manages to only succeed at mucking up everything he gets his claws into. Life, hope, dreams, camaraderie, companionship, quadrants, death, every- _fucking_ -thing. I fuck up, I have no idea what I’m doing, I have no purpose besides struggling to have some normalcy, just so that the universe can laugh when I fail once again. Yet I still fucking think I can have at least _one fucking thing_ –”

Gamzee’s prongs cup around your face, gently turning your face to look at him as he smooths his thumbs over your cheeks while speaking breathlessly, “Shoosh, shh, why you talking as if we ain’t still diamonds together? Come on now, ain’t you think better of me?”

“That’s not the fucking problem,” you shout, “I think greatly of you! For fuck’s sake, hearing this is tearing me up inside, because I wish I could fucking fix it, but I know better than anyone that this type of shit does not fix easily, if at fucking all! And if it does fix, it fixes all fucking crooked like a bone that was never put back into place or, or a ceramic bowl that you try to glue the fuck back together! Not all of it is there, and it probably no longer functions the way it’s supposed to! Look at me, look at fucking Helmsman! I don’t want that for you! And it’s my fault that you’re upset, I made you talk about it, I made you remember it. I know remembering things like this is terrible, and I still made you talk about it, I’m the fucking worst moirail –”

Gamzee paps your cheek firmly, scowling as he growls, “You are the motherfucking best moirail a troll could be to ask for. Don’t you dare try to say otherwise, ‘cause I ain’t gonna hear at that noise.”

You scowl back at him and Gamzee rolls his gander bulbs, saying, “Also, as to you claiming as you made me say shit or whatever. Motherfucker, I done that ‘cause I _wanted to_. I know of on my desires, and you can’t spin that to be your fault, when all the only thing as you done was listen at me, as a good motherfucking moirail should. So hush that untruthful noise as well.”

“Fucking make me,” you spit out, because for _fuck’s sake_ , he should be _angry_ at you! Or at least upset. Not, not fucking. He shouldn’t be, why can’t he just get mad? It would make sense, and you deserve that, at least. Can’t he fucking see that? It’s obvious, it’s undeniable, it’s just a goddamn fact. You messed up and you deserve to have that thrown in your face.

Gamzee stares at you for a minute before resolutely saying, “Motherfucker you need to chill. Ain’t no one winding up to strife you. Tuck them claws away and let me get you all gentled.”

You bare your fangs and hiss at him, but Gamzee smirks, gander bulbs drooping as he speaks huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine, the _motherfucker_ , “Ain’t not a thing as I’m gonna let you get your concern on about, gonna get your chill on and put you in total peace, my darling palemate. Sugar sharp diamond as you are, time for me to all go and smooth out all them edges and make you pitiful soft in our pile. You won’t be thinking a damned thing, that’s how fucking serene you’ll be, and while you’re all up and blissed the fuck out from pacification, I’ll take my time to all polish up your edges and make you fighting sharp again. Ain’t a thing as would dare touch you, after I take all your weakness and build you up rock-solid and razor-sharp. Gonna all make you into the diamond you truly are, that way so as nothing can shatter you.”

You choke and sputter through sounds that almost become words, holy shit you are going to _kill him_ , your whole body feels like you just got thrown into a fucking fire, fucking hell, this _asshole_. That was fucking pure, unadulterated pale talk, and using the fucking soothing tone to boot; the depraved rotting sack of flirtations. He is fucking chuckling at your floundering and you are going to _murder_ _him_ , you swear to- to fucking _something_ –

The thought of killing him aches in your thorax though, goddamn it, you are so fucking pathetically pale for him.

Your voice comes out squeakily as you announce, “I’m actually going to strangle you!”

As you cringe from the sound of your voice, face still burning hot, he laughs once again, and you won’t – can’t – kill him, but you _will_ fucking hit him. Lightly. Gamzee grabs your sides, delicate and gentle. He speaks soft, your spine tingling even more, a purr in his voice, “Let me all get my pile and jam on with you, best friend.”

You feel some of your muscles unwind just from the thought of a nice pile and feelings jam, and okay, maybe you won’t strangle him. Fuck your mutant pump biscuit, but you care about this idiot to ridiculous degrees. You sigh out slowly, and Gamzee smiles at you before situating you both so that he’s laying back on the pile with you on top of him. He nuzzles your face, purring loudly, and you grumble to cover up how quickly you relax due to his affection.

He doesn’t stop there though, his prongs begin rubbing your back, making you unwind as the soothing motion calms you down, making you breathe deep and slow. He lightly kisses your cheek and jaw, quiet chirps leaving your squeal pipette as he does so. Your prongs hold onto his shoulders, and one of his prongs reach up to rub at your skull, which is nice. At one point he strokes you between your horns and _oh fuck_ , him just petting your hair didn’t do much for you but, _oh_.

You hear a loud chittering noise and Gamzee kind of seems to startle, so you must have made that noise. You’ll be fucked if you had any clue how you made it, and after a moment, he does it again. This time on purpose and, everything kind of melts away into a liquid peace.

“Seems as I found something as gets your comfort on real nice and deep my brother,” Gamzee murmurs against your auricular shell, you shiver at the prickle on the back of your neck. You chirp and make an agreeing hum, feeling boneless and just fucking, great, honestly. You lay there, purring and chittering and just fucking, peaceful, a comforting rumbling-purr soothing you down to your bones.

His prongs travel and begin to knead into the muscles of your back, and that feels incredible, if you ignore the way your shirt keeps getting in the way. After a minute, you get annoyed enough by it that you pull at the collar and put it in your sylladex, not even bothering to properly take it off first.

Gamzee flinches and goes still for a breath, probably shocked by the number of scars you have, and normally you’d be more self-conscious about letting anyone see all the wounds the were inflicted on you by the Condesce, but right now you can’t find a single part of you that cares. After a second, both his prongs move to lightly trail his fingers all over your back, over your sides and your arms, then across your chest and abdomen.

“ _Messiahs_ ,” he hisses, breathless.

You hum sleepily, feeling secure in every sense of the word. He presses light kisses all over your face and you sigh serenely before nuzzling against his nugbone slightly. Gamzee purrs softly in response before going back to kneading your muscles. You arch into him, a relieved groan and loud clicking-purr leaving your squeal pipette.

Gamzee hum-purrs next to your auricular shells, his murmuring voice making pleasant tingles go down your spine, “Yeah, yeah, there you go, ain’t a thing to worry on about. Nothing’s gonna hurt you my most precious pitiful motherfucker, no harm will come to you as long as I’m here. Hush, shh, don’t hold it in no longer, let out all that stress and rage my palest brother, trust your weakness to me, hush now, I got you, shoosh. My motherfucking quadrant mate as I hold so dear, pale as dust and bones and sand. Ain’t nothing bound to change between us, ain’t nothing. Always gonna be here for you Karkat.”

Gamzee presses his forehead against yours and rubs one prong between your horns again. All thought dissipates instantly, feeling soothed and safe as he rubs between your horns gently and massages your back firmly, loosening all the tightness you didn’t even know you _had_. It’s, just, fucking, _amazing_.

Gamzee hums thoughtfully and you don’t even have a shred of you that’s curious. He’s got you, he’ll take care of you, he’ll keep you safe.

After a moment, or maybe longer, who fucking knows with how you’re still lost in palest pleasure. Either way, Gamzee eventually asks, “Mind if I all spin something at your way?”

You chirrup, rousing out of your state of blissful serenity, then you smile and murmur with a purr lingering in your voice, “Anytime.”

Gamzee pauses slightly before saying, “I just all had a thought onto something as, uh, be kinda. Well it’s a religious thinking upon how you still be alive.”

You blink for a second, before saying, “I know you like to rationalize things through your religion, and that’s fine, but some things are just fucking terrible for no reason or purpose.”

Gamzee huffs out his cartilaginous nub, before moving the prong that was resting on your nugbone to stroke your cheek gently, “My diamond, your words hold truth, but all as I was trying to say is that there must be a reason as you are still alive despite what, what happened.”

You laugh, sharp and bitter suddenly, “Yeah, like what? What fucking reason could there be?”

Gamzee paps and strokes your cheek intermittingly as he says, “Keeping all them hatchmates of yours connected, hatefriendly and not killing at each other. Stabilizing and empowering the Empire, helping make it a true better place where all can live freely. Fighting for the future, for the wigglers yet to come, for everything that ever was or will be. You rise to challenge time and time again, willing and strong. You might get kicked down or falter, but never do you forsake all you believe in. Might not be religious as I am, but my brother, you got endless belief and conviction when it comes to making the future a better place. You give others hope and a vision, something to work and fight towards together. If that ain’t enough of a reason, I ain’t thinking anything would be.”

You look away and mutter, “You’re biased.”

Gamzee chuckles softly and nuzzles against your forehead, saying, “Maybe a bit. But fact is, you keep this place in running order when otherwise it might sink. Who else but you could do that my pale brother?”

You bite the inside of your lip, hesitating before saying, “You do a pretty damn good job with the purples.”

Gamzee scoffs, “Faith is the main driving force as keeps us family together. They’d get along just fine without me, and all the proof you need is that they didn’t have no Grand in the span between Grand Highblood passing and me getting at my title of Grand Pulpiteer. Messiahs bless and guide my ancestor to the Carnival of Afterlife.”

After a pause, Gamzee says, “Plus you insinuating as I could at all do like as you do, commanding unfaithful to follow orders, let alone that I’d ever up and get the desire to try at such. Damn my bro, you must be exercising your imagination mighty hard for that scenario.”

You scoff and roll your gander bulbs at him. Gamzee smiles at you and asks, “See, ain’t you feel better now?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter, flipping your middle finger up at him.

Gamzee snorts and kisses your finger, smirking before wiggling his fingers across your sides quickly. You flail and try to push him away, high-pitched laughter escaping your squeal pipette, as you struggle to speak, “What the – ah hahaha ha –”

You dissolve into helpless laughter, shoving at him and squirming, which apparently doesn’t deter him at all. You struggle until you manage to squirm your fingers against his side.

Gamzee writhes and laughs, “Ahahahaha –”

He strives to make you laugh more, as you laugh and try to make him laugh. It’s a harmless struggle, filled with purrs and laughter and smiles stretched across both your faces.

You stop because you’re breathless and after a second you finally get out, “Gamzee – ehehehe – please – ahaha – stop –”

Gamzee stops, you pant and roll off top of Gamzee, falling back against the pile, wheezing out quiet snickers. Gamzee lays next to you, puffing out soft chuckles as he tries to catch his breath.

After a minute or two, you remember what you had been thinking earlier and start to say, “By the way, just in case your family has worse burns then us –”

Gamzee snorts and turns to kiss your cheek lightly, saying, “I appreciate the fuck outta your concern, but don’t worry too motherfucking much about that. We got some motherfuckers in church as know plenty about healing all kinds of wounds. My family be well tended to regardless of their injuries. We might have been wrong in thinking the trees and shit would be good enough cover, but my family know how to care for each other and they’ll be fine.”

You hesitate before shrugging and Gamzee asks out of nowhere, “By the way my brother, when the motherfuck even is your wriggling day?”

“The twelfth bilunar perigee of the sixth dark season’s equinox,” you reply, “Though I don’t really celebrate it.”

“Shit my bro,” Gamzee exclaims, “You’re older than me! Mine’s all at being the seventeenth bilunar perigee of the fourth dim season! Motherfuck, guess it’s all being true what they say, that those in dim season are crazy and those hatched in dark season are stubborn.”

“You are making no sense, as per usual, so we’re going to go back to me failing to succeed at taming this creature on your nugbone that you call hair,” you say with total seriousness. Gamzee laughs at you and you say, “What the hell are you waiting for? I can’t brush your hair while you’re laying down. Move your polka-dotted ass.”

With more snickers from Gamzee, and some maneuvering, you’re back to brushing your pitiful moirail’s hair.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays!  
> hope you enjoy my first present to you all~

“Walleye think this is a wrap then,” Feferi says with a smile. “Thank you for coming to glub with me tonight, I greatly appre-sea-ate it! I believe the peace we’ve established will be the beginning of a very fry-endly and bene-fish-ial allegiance. I look forward to our next schooling.”

The leader of the planet stands and bows to Feferi, saying, “I could not possibly agree more, Your Majesty. I look forward to the harmony you aim to have over all of the previous Empress’s colonies. That will surely be something to see after so many sweeps of oppression. Until next time, I wish you and all your affiliates well.”

Feferi stands and says, “I’ll guide you to your ship.”

The dignitary bows again, saying, “Thank you for your gracious and kind offer.”

As Feferi guides them out, you stand and sigh, feeling exhausted by the negotiations. Another planet that is now peacefully residing under Feferi’s rule is a win by all counts, but goddamn are you tired. You head out of the block, only a little behind Feferi and the dignitary as they idly chat.

These discussions have been taking up all of your time lately, enough that you haven’t seen Gamzee since the twenty-ninth dim season started, which isn’t too abnormal since it _is_ fucking dim season. Not that you haven’t been talking to him and video chatting with him constantly. Still though, you miss the shit out of him. Doing this political bullshit has taken so long that it’s nearly the fucking end of the dim season already though, so you guess that could be seen as a silver lining? That now that you’re finally done, you should be able to see him soon, since it’ll be safe to go outside without ridiculous amounts of protection. Fuck, you are already looking forward to sharing a pile with him somewhere, fucking _anywhere_. You’d even fall asleep at his goddamn church again if it meant having a nice feelings jam with him, you are _that_ fucking drained right now. You seriously just want some fucking breathing space from your job for _two goddamn minutes_.

When you finally get into the main training compound, having been walking fairly slow, you hear a shout from the other side of the block, and oh sweet mother grub fucking shit, you just _had_ to fucking bait the universe into making your life more miserable, didn’t you? You scowl and glare in the direction of the shout to see.

What.

You blink as a familiar troll laughs, scratching the back of his nugbone as he says, “Chill motherfucker, you be way too motherfucking up in unease. I ain’t at being no danger to no one, so ain’t no need to shout outta nowhere for nothing.”

You walk closer to where Feferi is standing, her arms crossed over her chest with a frown, the dignitary next to her with their prongs covering their talk blaster.

They are both looking at, to your surprise, Gamzee, as he glances at Feferi and simply says, “Sister.”

Feferi huffs and says, “You beta not have tried to scare the Empire’s ally on porpoise, I may be inclined to school-d you otter-wise.”

Gamzee scoffs, “I was just walking motherfucker. If I had intents for scaring, I think they woulda all pissed themselves. I ain’t come here but for one reason, and much as you be a thorn in my motherfucking side, it wasn’t for you or anyone else but my palest brother.”

Feferi rolls her gander bulbs and says, “I’ll believe that, conch-sidering that you _usually_ do bug me before on trawl-lian if you know you’re going to swim into me.”

Gamzee shrugs and says, “Seems as like it’s what I do fairly owe you, what all with you prodding your fork at Nepeta and I so as to force us into getting along, it feels like as it’s my right to give you what heckling you’re due as well.”

Feferi exhales a puff of air from her talk blaster and says, “Alright, that’s enough flattery from you. You better bug Nepeta just as much as me. She’s part of this too. That’s the whale glubbing point of this, Clam-zee.”

Gamzee huffs through his cartilaginous nub and says, “Maybe I do and maybe I don’t, and just motherfucking _maybe_ you’ll to be a more proper irritant about it later when I ain’t busy. For now, I’m leaving you in unknowing without any fucking regrets.”

Feferi scowls at him, baring her teeth slightly before turning to the dignitary and apologizing quietly. With that, the two of them seem to agree to leave each other alone, Feferi walking away with the dignitary again.

As Feferi leaves, Tavros walks up to Gamzee, waving before saying, “Hey, I wanted to say hi and also, apologize, for freaking you out last time we saw each other. I’m, honestly not too sure what I did or said, that exactly freaked you out? But I’m sorry I did, and hope that you can forgive me, for upsetting you.”

Gamzee stares at Tavros for a second before saying, “An apology is a kindness unexpected and unnecessary, but forgiveness ain’t a thing as I will withhold from those as earnestly ask after for it, and you do seem truthful earnest about wanting such a thing. Though I suppose I ain’t particular the best motherfucker for being able to discern whether someone be all on the level or not, so maybe I be misjudging, but it ain’t no real concern on at me. Especially seeing as you be asking after pardon all on a personal matter unprompted and unanticipated. Honest never seen it as being at your fault though, so it ain’t was needed, even as I appreciate the gesture.”

Tavros chuckles and says, “Uh, what? I think I lost what you were saying there.”

You roll your gander bulbs and walk over, saying, “He’s saying thank you, basically, even if he’s being stupidly over-specific. Also, he said that he never blamed you for what happened.”

Gamzee looks over to you with a smile, but it drops a bit when he sees you and he asks, “Best friend, you doing okay?”

Before you can reply, Tavros asks, “So I guess, that Feferi chatting with the dignitary, means that it went well?”

You grunt, making Tavros quietly say, “Uh. Okay, that, was certainly an answer, thanks for letting me know, whether the cavalreapers need to continue fighting. I appreciate it a lot, let me tell you.”

“Tavros,” you grumble out, “if you or the cavalreapers needed to still fight, I would’ve sent you or them an urgent goddamn message. Figure out the fucking obvious on your own, dipshit. I won’t connect the fucking dots for you.”

Tavros frowns slightly as you stare at him flatly, and Gamzee apparently takes the silence as his cue to hesitantly say, “Seems as like you’re busy my brother –”

“Gamzee,” you interrupt, “I am one fucking step away from screaming and tearing my goddamn hair out. Proceed with upmost caution.”

Gamzee snorts at that, grinning as he says, “Well, I was gonna be telling you how I planned for to be waiting in your block, having not thought I’d a run all into you as like this. Waiting all appears to be pointless though, if what you say is truth.”

He pauses to turn to Tavros and says, “I’m gonna go have a nice chat with Karkat now, speak at with you some other time, brother.”

Tavros smiles, face going faintly brown as he says, “Yeah, sounds great! I’ll be looking forward to it!”

As Tavros walks away, Gamzee seems to be frozen in place, and after a second you clear you throat, making him jolt slightly and look at you. You raise an eyebrow and he shrinks into himself a bit, muttering quietly, “Sorry. Got lost in thinking for a sec.”

You frown slightly but he grins, asking, “You want for me to carry you or are you going to be walking beside me to your block?”

“Obviously I’m fully capable of walking,” you reply while glaring at him. After a half-second of silence, you turn and start walking towards your block, Gamzee matching your pace silently.

Eventually you reach your block and go inside, not even bothering to lock the door before flopping face-first onto the pile. You hear the door lock, though, so Gamzee must have done it. Out of habit or out of knowing that’s the way you prefer it, you don’t know, and you don’t care.

Gamzee gets on the pile beside you, stroking your back rhythmically as he asks in a hushed tone that makes you shiver, “You ain’t frothed in anger my brother, you’re motherfucking tired as hell.”

You turn your nugbone to the side to look at him, saying, “And you’re a clown. Now remind me why we’re stating the obvious.”

Gamze chuckles and purrs as he says, “If a motherfucker as ain’t know you well heard at you earlier, they would of all thought you getting near raging with how you were speaking. Why’s that so? You mean for to make it seem that you pissed when all you is, is motherfucking bushed?”

You shrug with a noise, turning your nugbone away because looking at him was hurting your neck, then you mutter, “No, I wasn’t trying to seem angry. So what though? What’s fucking new? I don’t know why it might’ve seemed that way.”

After a pause, you sigh and roll towards him, saying, “All that matters is that you knew what was really wrong. Everyone else go fucking blow me. Sometime later. Right now, what I want to do is have a peaceful feelings jam, cuddled close to my pitiful moirail, and then promptly fuck off to some hopefully decent sleep.”

Gamzee smiles warmly, brushing his hair behind the auricular shell closest to you as he asks, “Then what you waiting for, best friend? You know I always be welcoming at you cuddling on me and talking about whatever shit as does cross our pans.”

You smile, tired but happy, before embracing him. As soon as his arms wrap around your body, you take a deep breath of air, holding it for a second before exhaling it with a smile.

Gamzee purrs and says, “I always miss your motherfucking smell while we’re apart.”

You hesitate before asking, “You said my scent reminded you of your wiggler hood hive, right? Does that mean it, like, brings back bad memories?”

Gamzee scoffs lightly and says, “Not really. I mean, I suppose there’s always an undertone of knowing and remembering shit what ain’t so happy, but it’s still nice and comforting.”

You frown as you say, “If you say so, Gamzee.”

Gamzee laughs softly, “I did just say at so my brother.”

You hum and close your gander bulbs, asking, “So you said you had planned on waiting for me?”

Gamzee nods and says, “Just decided to come visit all on random whim. Figured it’d be a nice surprise for you to be seeing at me when you all got done with your work, so I thought I’d come in here and wait for you.”

“If you want or need me, I want to be there for you.” You pull back to look at his face as you say, “I don’t ever want to leave you waiting.”

“I know,” Gamze replies softly. His grip on you tightens for half a second, before he smiles wide and he simply says, “Waited for shit as wasn’t near as worth it before, though. Waiting occasionally, that ain’t no burden or pain on me, I promise. You well make up for it in many ways beyond what is needed, and truly make your own pining after me known, in ways as ache and heal at the same time.”

You pout and say, “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let me know that you’re waiting. That way I _at least_ know that you’re here.”

After a second of silence, Gamzee shrugs and rolls over, pulling you with him as he does so. You scoff, now on top of him as you say, “You really seem to like this.”

Gamzee smiles, his auricular fin going purple as he says, “Makes me feel surrounded by you. Surrounded by safety and warmth, protected by whom I trust most. So yeah, I like it a lot.”

You scoff, your cheeks a bit warm, and say, “You’re strange as fucking hell Gamzee.”

Gamzee chuckles softly, and you wait to see if he has something to say before you ask, “So what the hell was with you zoning out earlier? You said you got lost or something?”

His auricular shell and fin go bright purple as he mutters, “Ain’t. Really nothing. Bad. So much. Probably.”

You raise an eyebrow and ask, “Do I get any clarification on that? Or are we tiptoeing around this for another ten minutes before you finally fucking tell me what’s going on inside your pan?”

Gamzee hunches into himself, looking away as he mumbles, “Would rather the second, but I’ll do the first I guess.”

Then he takes a deep breath and holds it for a second, before turning to look at you as he says, “I was flush for him.”

Gamzee glances away, auricular fin going purple as he says, “Or well, crushing flush anyway. Seems hell of unreciprocated on his end, but. I had what seems to be the reddish crush of my life on at him when I was six.”

You wait for more before saying, “Okay, and? You’re not like your six-sweep self. A shit ton has changed. So what, if anything, does that change in the present?”

Gamzee whines, scowling as he says, “That’s kind of part of the thing my brother, I. Might. Still feel that way?”

Gamzee growls lowly and looks away, grumbling, “Maybe.”

“You don’t seem to be happy about it, so that would seem like a ‘no’ either way,” you say.

Gamzee huffs through his cartilaginous nub and says, “I just, I ain’t able to tell if this is just me remembering them past motherfucking feelings and mistaking them for feelings true. I don’t know if I’m really flush for him, I hardly remember the motherfucker, I ain’t knowing Nitram at fucking all really. Even in the past, I ain’t really known at him both because of sopor blinding and numbing me, and because I never seemed to bother to try to know Nitram beyond like. He was nice and sweet and funny and wiggler decent at slamming poems in a way that was endearing and nice and funny and friendly and sweet and –”

“You’re repeating yourself Gamzee,” you interrupt him quietly.

Gamzee groans, throwing his arms up as he says, “See what I mean? All them things are what my young self knew and thought of Nitram. Nothing motherfucking more. But now I gotta try to sort out what the fuck that means for me _now_ , if I truly want him flush. Reading my young self flirt like a motherfucking idiot is _mortifying_ , so I can’t bear to read more of that shit and try to get to know the motherfucker through them ways, and even just now being in face with Nitram, all it does is leave me feeling even more confused than before. So I’m just fucking bashing my motherfuckin nugbone into a wall with not knowing what to do!”

You sigh and pap his cheek, a familiar pacifying gesture as you say, “Well stop doing that, first of all, trust me, it won’t help. Secondly, fucking accept the fact that your younger self fell flush for him, regardless of _why_ , that way you can maybe move past what you _used_ to feel, and start actually dealing with how you _do_ feel.”

Gamzee sighs and mumbles, “I’m trying my brother, but I can’t help but think as the only reason my younger self liked Nitram was all because the outsider was the nicest motherfucker I knew back then. Not saying as he was perfect or nothing, that brother was stubborn and strong even back then it seems, and if I spoke at him now some of the shit he used to say would probably get me to protesting or upset. Not like, rage-worthy or nothing. Just shit as I’d call out on principle or whatever. But when you talk to four or so trolls, Nitram is obviously the one who is mighty fucking nice and sweet.”

You stroke his face for a second before saying, “Well hopefully you know that what you felt in the past doesn’t mean you have to like him now, even as a friend. Also, just because he was the nicest of a bunch of assholes doesn’t mean he’s great.”

“I know,” Gamzee says with a frown. After a moment, he looks towards you and asks, “What you think of him?”

“I think my opinion of him shouldn’t affect your feelings for him,” you say.

Gamzee snorts and says, “It probably won’t. I still do want to get to know him myself, but I trust your judgment and would like to know how all he looks in your gander bulbs, past and present.”

“I didn’t really talk to him much when we were young,” you say. “I was a huge asshole, and we both seemed to have pretty neutral opinions on each other, _at best_. I used to think he was this weak crybaby, who for some fucking reason Vriska was obsessed with. Which, I know now that I was wrong, because someone who dealt with Vriska’s harassment as constantly as he did and _survived_ , well, they had to be pretty fucking resilient. Which has become more obvious since he’s been a general. So now I think he’s tough and determined, but easy enough to get along with, even if his obstinate side rears its ugly fucking face from time to time. He’s kind of just average, still one of the best among a group of assholes, I guess.”

You pause before half-joking, “The group of assholes including myself, that is.”

Gamzee snorts and says, “Oh hush, motherfucker. If you’re an asshole, then so am I.”

“I think I can agree to that,” you say with a smirk, and Gamzee laughs. You smile more genuinely before saying, “Do you feel better now, or do you need to vent about this some more?”

Gamzee hums before saying, “Nah, I think I’m good on this for now. I’ll sort my feelings out eventually, then either talk to him in face again or read through some more of our chats. Depends on which I’ll be feeling more comfortable with at the time. Either way, I’ll be sure to speak at you before I make my decision or if I need to talk about this shit some more.”

“Sounds like a deal,” you say as you smile at him.

“What about you though, you and that yellow bro seem to have found a way to settle in nice and argumentative, else you woulda been lamenting at me about it,” Gamzee says. “That mean you are all happy with your kismesissitude right as it is?”

You shrug and say, “Yeah. I mean, I think so.”

Gamzee frowns and asks, “What’s the matter? He still treating you weak?”

“No,” you say. You hesitate, sighing before you say, “I mean, not really. Not as bad as before, at least. Some part of me still thinks he’s still a bit reluctant to hurt me, though I have no proof of it.”

Gamzee cups your cheek with his prong and quietly asks, “Why you think that?”

His thumb strokes your cheek gently and it’s a minute or two before you finally mutter, “I think it’s because he remembers how he and Feferi found me after the Condense was dead.”

Gamzee stalls for a second, his prong falling slightly. You grab his prong tightly and go on, not looking at him, “Like yeah, I get it, I probably looked horrible. My pan was, _is_ , fucked up as well. Torture does that. He knows that sea bitch did terrible things and hurt me. And yeah, that was fucking _horrible_. Rather die than go back to that. That doesn’t mean I’m fucking _broken_ though.”

You stop and sigh, pressing your gander bulbs into his knuckles slightly, muttering, “Or if I was broken, I’m better. _Getting_ better. Broken but not fucking, not, not-”

“Not defeated,” Gamzee offers quietly. After a pause, he says, “Not destroyed.”

“Something like that,” you mumble. “It just doesn’t mean I can’t have a healthy kismesissitude. Doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ a kismesis.”

“Doesn’t all mean that you ain’t able to handle his hurting,” Gamzee says, and you’re not sure if he’s asking or stating it.

“Exactly,” you say, lowering his prong to look at him. “Someone fucking put me through agony, I won’t deny that, it was pure goddamn agony. But I fucking survived it. I survived and am still kicking ass and taking names. If I can fight against fuckers who _actually_ want to kill me and survive the _motherfucking Condense_ , I think I can handle pitch fighting. Psionics or not, I can be a fucking rival for that nookface if he’d just goddamn _let me_. But no, he has to just fucking wuss out because he doesn’t want to remind me of her. Joke’s on fucking him, because the second he pulls away is the second that my past crosses my mind, not any fucking sooner, and that’s only because I’m almost certain that it’s why he’s holding back.”

Gamzee hums before asking, “He thinks he will do you like the fish bitch did?”

You see just the slightest edge of a dangerous look in Gamzee’s gander bulbs and you pap his cheek, rolling your gander bulbs, “He worries about making my _oh so delicate_ condition worse. I would prefer him to stop treating me like the slightest touch will shatter me, and _you_ shouldn’t be pissed that he worries about it. Means he cares about not fucking me up like she did, right?”

Gamzee huffs out his cartilaginous nub, but doesn’t argue your point, the deadly look in his gander bulbs fading slightly as he shrugs instead of replying. You sigh and pap him again before saying, “He only worries because the _arrogant shithole_ convinced himself that he’s likely to make me trip off into a fucking flashback at the slightest pain I suffer. As if I don’t get attacked and injured by enemies frequently, even some of the better threshecutioners trainees can nick me for fuck’s sake. But no, he has deluded himself into believing that the second he hurts me, I’ll just fucking crumple up into a ball and cry like a grub. Annoying pissant.”

“You try to tell him that like, he ain’t her,” Gamzee asks. “You might have all said at him once as you don’t want him treating you fragile, but you ever tell at him that he be all delusional on of you being brought to unkind remembrances because of him?”

You pause to think about it before saying, “No.”

“Try to shout all romantic at him about it then,” Gamzee suggests.

You sigh for a long moment before muttering, “Yeah, maybe I should.”

Gamzee smiles and says, “Other than that though, talking about him still does seem to get you aggrieved, so it seems like over all you still be happy with him for your rival.”

You groan and growl out, “Yeah well, you’re one to talk, blatantly ashen flirting with Feferi earlier. I once thought your shameless flirtations only applied to me, but I guess I was considerably incorrect.”

You put a finger in front of his open talk blaster before he can say anything, saying firmly, “I’m pulling your frond a little, shoosh. I’m not actually upset or complaining or anything. I’m fucking happy for all three of you, it genuinely puts less stress on me, calm your fucking clown tits.”

Gamzee snorts, and the instant you drop your finger from in front of his talk blaster, he says, “Ain’t got no tits best friend. I be major lacking in the rumble sphere category if you ain’t noticed.”

“Then calm your goddamn nonexistent tits,” you say, glaring at him a little playfully, “since when did I suddenly start having to speak literally?”

“Since it’s fun as to mess with you on occasion,” Gamzee admits easily with a smile. You scoff at him and roll your gander bulbs, smiling even as you do so. You go back to holding him close and Gamzee purrs, holding you as well while you purr back.

After a minute of peace, where you begin to feel yourself drift off to sleep, Gamzee asks, “Hey, mind if I all get my ablution on, real quick like? Promise I’ll come right back to our pile to cuddle and sleep with you.”

You yawn and murmur, “Go ahead. I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep though.”

Gamzee chuckles and rolls over onto his side, kissing your forehead softly before saying, “That’s fine my diamond brother. I ain’t gonna mind in the least. I’ll try to be quick though.”

You hum and Gamzee lets you go as you say, “Take as long as you need.”

The pile shifts as he gets off, but otherwise there is silence as Gamzee undoubtedly walks to your ablutionblock. After a minute, you hear the sound of falling water in the distance.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays once again, here's your other present!!!!

You open your gander bulbs groggily, blinking for a second before recalling that you fell asleep in the pile while Gamzee was in the ablutionblock. You sit up and rub at your gander bulbs, confused about how you feel tired and yet refreshed. Those two things should not simultaneously occur, your logical thought says. _Palest motherfucking miracles_ says a voice in your pan that sounds like Gamzee.

You grunt and look at said miracle-worshiping clown, only to be startled bad enough to tumble off the goddamn pile. Your shoulders hit the floor, followed by your nugbone, and you roll to your side as you cradle the back of your nugbone with your prongs, hissing in pain.

“Wha–,” Gamzee’s voice mumbles out. “What the – best friend? The fuck? What happened?”

“Besides me being an idiot,” you spit out rhetorically. Gamzee huffs through his cartilaginous nub and you sit up, still rubbing at the back of your nugbone with one prong.

You hesitate for a second, wondering if you just imagined what you saw a second ago. When you finally look at him, you are again surprised, and you end up blurting out, “Your makeup is off.”

Gamzee’s cheeks tint purple which is _weird as fuck_ to see after so goddamn long, not to mention that now you can see his dark grey skin, along with three long diagonal scars _going across his_ _entire face_ , _holy shitting fuck_ , Nepeta did _that_? Fucking _how_ , again? You feel like you need a better idea of what the fuck happened, because when Gamzee mentioned he had scars from her, you didn’t even come _close_ to imagining something like this.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, scratching the back of his nugbone as he glances away. “Usually supposed to take it off every day before all going at to sleep.”

You rub your prongs against your face, still not comprehending any of this, totally baffled and just. What the fuck, what is even going on. You know this shit is important to faithful clowns, and you thought they _never_ took it off. That’s all you know about it though, so you are confused as shit.

You look at him, saying, “Some explanation would be nice right now because, quite honestly, I have no idea what reaction I should be having right now.”

Gamzee smiles and pats the pile next to him, saying, “Come on back up here my brother and I’ll tell you all as you need or want to know.”

You grumble as you get back up, sitting next to him before saying, “Okay, explanation time.”

Gamzee smiles gently with his gander bulbs drooping and _fuck_ , how is that more alluring than usual? He quietly says, “To have bare-face is unholy, sinful –”

You cover your gander bulbs and shriek, “ _What the fuck_!”

“No, no,” Gamzee says quickly, moving forward to pat your chest with one prong, another pulling your prongs down and away from your face. You grab his prong with both of your prongs squeeze, staring at his prong mostly to keep yourself somewhat calm as he talks, “Shush! Best friend please, I ain’t done explaining. I know what the motherfuck I’m doing, and I pity you whole to my soul, but I ain’t giving up nothing what would condemn me, trust me.”

“Fuck,” you hiss out. You breathe in deeply and say, “Fuck, okay. I’ll shoosh. Alright, just. Fuck. Maybe not the best thing to start with Gamzee. I’m kind of freaking out now.”

“Shoosh,” Gamzee says quietly, using his free prong to stroke and pap your cheek as he goes on, “Hush now, get your calm on my bro. Ain’t nothing you need to freak on out about.”

Gamzee pauses before saying, “How all you reacted, you going to try to stop looking at me, trying to preserve my beliefs so much that you flipped your shit, it’s kinda weirdly flattering and almost funny, my diamond.”

“I’m going to punch you in the goddamn _bulge_ if you start laughing right now, I swear to _fucking hell_ , Gamzee,” you hiss out, pissed because this shit is _not fucking funny_.

Gamzee snorts quietly and you growl, but he kisses your forehead softly and says, “It’s sin if you have bare-face _all the time_. If you’re faithful and bare-faced there should be only one of a few reasons to such a thing. Most reasons be cleanliness, initiation, other things of the like, but it also covers if some motherfucker all forcefully removes it. The last reason is if you’re with a _trusted quadrant_.”

You swallow as Gamzee pauses, trying to process what he’s saying. After a second, he says, “That’s the main reason I done at this Karkat. I’m pale as motherfucking bone for you, I pity you more and more each day and night, and I trust you so goddamn much. I wanted to do this as a show of how true deep my trust in you is.”

You barely manage to quietly mutter, “I. Am kind of in a state of minor shock, so excuse me for not being as expressive as usual.”

“It’s all right,” he says gently as he strokes your cheek. “You ain’t need to say nothing. I’m just trying at my best to up and give at you the best explanation as I can.”

You nod, and he seems to think about what he wants to say before he says, “It’s, the paint it’s. Faith makes it of import, and faith is of most importance to me. Wore this paint all my life my brother. Can’t be remembering at a time I didn’t believe and wear at my holy mask. The clown paint I wear in all technicalities is being the generic paint of a clown before conscription. Though I guess I didn’t know so at the time. Didn’t think much on it, I just liked how it looked and copied it. But it’s a mark and mask of a young faithful before they profess their faith to the Messiahs and the family, and when you get done with the miraculous initiation, you are kind of expected to make at a more personal mask? Though not made to. I don’t know any beside me who ain’t changed it afterwards though. With my paint, that’s, it’s a devotion, a symbol and a mask and a vow. It’s all I got protecting me from being humiliated or condemned. That’s all what I’m trusting you with Karkat. Taking off my holy paint for you, my best most beloved palemate, means I trust you with all of me and pity you; from my horns and husk to my life and soul. My bare-face would be condemnation if I were to wear it all the time, but I wear it for you. No other would or should _ever_ see me as such, but to you I offer it.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” you breathe out. You breathe in deeply before asking, “On a scale of one to ten, how important is this? For me to see it and others not to? I just. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure it’s a ten, but I want to make sure we’re both on the same page here.”

“On scale,” Gamzee mutters, “You seeing and others not, I’d rate them both at hundred myself.”

You choke on a noise, kind of wanting to punch him for using a number higher than you had said, but also feeling like your thorax just got hit, _hard_. Like pity just slammed up against your ribcage and winded the shit out of you.

“Gamzee, I,” you choke out, overwhelmed by what he’s saying.

Gamzee purrs softly and says, “Take time if you need, these facts ain’t bound to change any time. My offer ain’t gonna ever be rescinded, but if it’s too strange for you yet, I can put my makeup back on.”

“No,” you say quickly, moving one prong to grab his shirt tightly. Gamzee is still stroking your cheek gently and you take a deep breath of air to brace yourself before looking at him.

His adult dark-gray skin is tinted faintly purple, the only slight color difference being the three light gray scars across his face. They start by his temple, two of them going through his fucking _gander bulbs_ and his cheeks, the one in the middle going through the bridge of his cartilaginous nub and his lips, all of them ending near the opposite jawline. You are seriously wondering how in the hell he still has both his gander bulbs intact, and how he’s not blind in some aspect, fuck. At the same time though, why would Nepeta go for his face if she was trying to kill him? You consider asking Gamzee for clarification, but you remember last time he talked about it, he said he didn’t remember a lot of it.

His cheeks are flushed a little purple still, his gander bulbs half-shut, and how the fuck have you never noticed how deep purple his irises are? He smirks, and you sputter, almost immediately going to cover his face, stopping before covering your own face and biting down on an embarrassed shriek. You take deep breaths of air as Gamzee laughs loudly, little wheezed out honks randomly coming out as well. You ignore him being an ass, just focusing on calming down, half convinced that him being a jackass and laughing so much means he’s nervous about this as well.

Once you’ve stopped wanting to scream from sheer embarrassment and tremendous amounts of pale pity, you look back up at him, your voice coming out small as you ask, “Can I touch your face?”

Gamzee barks out a short clap of laughter, his face going deep purple, his auricular shells and fins going purple as well as he asks, “Since when are you needing to ask at that?”

“Well fuck you,” you mutter, not meaning it at all. “Is this what I get for trying to be considerate? You being a smart ass?”

Gamzee doesn’t reply beyond a grin and after a pause, you reach out and touch his cheek with your fingertips. It’s so different from what you’re used to. His skin isn’t smooth like his makeup, the feeling of thickness is gone too, and it really shouldn’t be this strange. It’s normal fucking skin with some scars, no big deal. You swallow and stroke his cheek like when you do when he does have his makeup on, light yet firm, and Gamzee purrs loudly, that familiar rattle that you pity so much. You pap and stroke his face, rhythmic and familiar, Gamzee relaxing slowly like usual. Nothing has really changed, you know that, but, you also know that everything is different now. You’ve always felt his makeup until now, and it’s important. To him _and_ to you.

“Hey best friend,” Gamzee murmurs.

You lower your prong and ask, “Is something wrong?”

Gamzee laughs and grins, purring as he says, “Not a single thing is amiss right now, chill out and be peace. I just wanted to talk at you about something.”

You relax a bit and say, “Oh, okay.”

Gamzee chuckles and paps your cheek, saying, “Seriously, get your settle on. I’m probably gonna need you full in your calm, because um, I’m gonna be stumbling through words. Because I ain’t sure how to motherfucking say what. What I want to say.”

“Alright, I guess I can keep my shit together if that’ll somehow help you,” you reply, and he nods. You wait but he just keeps nodding, and after a while you say, “Gamzee.”

He startles slightly, his face along with auricular shells and fins going deep purple, and he says, “Shit, sorry. Uh, fuck. There’s. Motherfuck. Remember the, um, terms faithful call others?”

“I mean, vaguely I guess,” you reply, trying to make your confusion clear in your tone. “Like there’s familiar terms and hidden insults, and the intention meant by the speaker is mostly what defines an insult.”

Gamzee nods, saying, “There are certain things only clowns be allowed to say too. Like how all I got the title Grand Pulpiteer, then my other title what can only be used by faithful.”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that,” you mutter, shrugging to yourself after a moment.

“Well there’s,” Gamzee halts, the purple inching down his neck as he continues, “quadrant endearments as only faithful use.”

You don’t reply, figuring that Gamzee has a point to this that he’ll get around to saying eventually. After a moment, he looks away as he speaks quietly, “The one for diamonds, for moirails, for the pale quadrant. It’s um.”

There’s a pause before Gamzee looks at you and says, “It, ain’t something you’d tell anyone but who all, who all gets you feeling, um. Ain’t something you’d say to anyone but, but the one what, uh, makes you feel that way? Not even, I mean like. Some quadrants never, it’s not like a, thing you say like to express intentions or nothing. Feeling pale ain’t the same as feeling like, like –”

Gamzee halts, and holy shit you’ve never seen him struggle so much with trying to express something. You genuinely have no idea what he’s saying here, and that’s saying something, considering how you can usually understand at least the gist of what he means, despite how badly he meanders around his point in standard conversation. This is completely different from that though.

Gamzee takes a deep breath and seems to brace himself before saying, “Like a quadrant could’ve been ordained by the Holy Mirthful Messiahs’ themselves.”

You blink at him, eyebrows raising in shock, and Gamzee goes on quickly, “And I feel that way, I know you ain’t believe in the Messiahs, but them make quadrants and design pairs for every quadrant. I feel it’s romantically serendipitous, you and me, me and motherfucking you. Balanced and strong together, wanting and needing each other, to near frightening amounts of need, motherfuck. Felt like we were meant to be and, and –”

Gamzee stops suddenly, searching your face for a minute before quietly, uncertainly, asking, “And I want to know if you feel the same, even a little?”

You smile and don’t even have to think about your reply, “Of course I feel that way Gamzee. I don’t believe in any gods, but I think serendipity is possible, even if that’s just due to the remains of my wiggler fantasies. And even if I didn’t, I can’t deny that this moirallegiance _works_ , for both of us. It’s a positive thing in both of our lives, and I’d never willingly give that up, now that I have it. It’s crazy that everything worked out like this, but I would do it all over again just to have you as my moirail.”

Gamzee takes a deep shuddering breath before mumbling, “I might get to leaking dismay fluid, that chill with you? Promise it ain’t ‘cause I’m upset. It’s like the exact opposite in truth.”

You cup both your prongs over his cheeks, bumping your forehead gently against his before you whisper, “Yeah, I think I’m goddamn chill with that Gamzee.”

Gamzee laughs, voice thick as he says, “Cool, cool.”

He sniffs, grinning even as dismay fluid falls out of his gander bulbs, and you kiss his forehead gently as you purr quietly. You run your prongs through his hair and he laughs somewhat little sharply, wrapping his arms around you as he purrs loudly. It’s not long before he seems to cry himself out, his dismay fluid slowing to a crawl before he shakes his nugbone and takes a deep breath.

Then, with one last sniff as the dismay fluid dries on his cheeks, he says, “Got off track a little though. Wanted to say something all officially, and wanna say it even more now seeing as uh –”

He pauses, his face going slightly purple as he says, “Seeing as we all feel the same on about how we be all meant for each other pale.”

You wait for him to go on, content even as he pulls back completely from the embrace to look at you better. He seems to think about what to say for a minute, then smiles as he finally says, “The term as I was all trying and struggling to mention before was, it’s star diamond. I know you don’t know what entire that means, so I’m gonna up and tell you what it means, best as I know how to do at so at least. So, we already chatted on how there are terms of endearment only used by faithful, ones meant to all express the fact as they believe that the quadrant was one ordained by the Holy Mirthful Messiahs’. I already told you as I feel that way, and you –”

Gamzee takes a sharp breath of air, dismay fluid gathering in his gander bulbs once again, “Motherfuck, you don’t believe, but you went and said you felt the _same_ , fuck my brother, sorry I –”

You stroke his cheek softly as you murmur, “Shh, don’t apologize.”

Gamzee laughs breathily, grinning as he goes on, “Means so much to me, I don’t even think I got the words as to say how much it means, but it does mean so fucking much and I fucking hope and pray you know that.”

“I do know that,” you tell him, “It means a lot to me that you feel that way as well.”

Gamzee purrs quietly as he says, “We feel the same on about this shit, and that’s a motherfucking miracle in of itself. So, seeing as we agree that we be serendipitous pale, the term as faithful have for that is star diamond. Diamonds, moirallegiance, the pale quadrant. Well, not all faith thinks the same way, but I believe pale is most sacred to Messiahs. No quadrant comes close to the trust moirails have, ‘cause you trust moirails with your personal secrets, with your weakness, with your life, with everything. You all need to trust a moirail more than any other quadrant, and trust is a thing most motherfucking revered to faith and Messiahs. Trust ain’t no easy thing to gain, especially a clown’s trust. That shit is broken easier than fucking glass, because we been fucking betrayed time and again, so faithful be wary as fuck about trusting. I was fucking _terrified_ of trusting you at first Karkat, and maybe that was in part due to the situation what was going on, but I trusted, and you proved yourself even quicker than I ever imagined.”

He pauses for a second before getting back on track, saying, “So I all think as moirallegiance can be a holy thing when done right. And my brother, we are doing it right by the best motherfuckin standard, we do it right by _us_. Being our honest selves and coming to compromises and understandings and shit all face to face, mutual respect and trust, palest fucking feelings guiding everything we do together. That’s the most right best way to do it, and I ain’t even _thought_ about that until you opened my gander bulbs to that truth! Every day or night spent with you has been the best thing ever, and sometimes how much I need and want you is scary, but you’ve always done right by me and I’m gonna always do right by you in return. At least as much as I can motherfucking manage –”

“Wait,” you ask with a slight frown, “why is needing and wanting me scary?”

Gamzee blinks like you surprised him, pausing before he mutters, “My bro, needing or wanting anything is fucking menacing to me. I _needed_ my motherfuckin lusus, _wanted_ him to stop leaving. Felt like I needed sopor too, I wanted that shit like a thirst unquenchable when I was all going through getting sober. Needing and wanting is petrifying, when all you’ve needed or wanted, or thought you needed or wanted, went and all turned on you and fucked you up, with no fucking mercy.”

You flinch, finally understanding why he has issues with saying what he wants now that he explained it that way to you, muttering, “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking about it like that –”

“You ain’t got no reason to, and neither do I anymore, even if I all do forget that sometimes,” Gamzee says with a soft smile. “But, like all I was saying, you’ve always done right by me and I’m gonna always do right by you. So, all due to the fact that we both believe we be serendipitous, the term of endearment as is used by faithful, the one for pale as fuck pity. That’s star diamond. And you, you’re mine, Karkat. My star diamond.”

Your cheeks get warm and despite the romantic nature of all this, you can’t help but ask a semi-paranoid question, “Uh, so are we still goin to have to worry about that faithful trail thing you mentioned was a possibility before?”

Gamzee blinks and laughs slightly, saying, “Nah my brother. Ain’t no way as my family would get to be questioning on after that kinda shit now. I mean, to be total entire truthful, that all does have less to do with me baring my face to you then you all seem to be implying, though that fact might all certain have effect, in motherfucking theory. But uh, no, they won’t going to question at you mostly and probably in honest entirely due to how all you helped us to peacefully do Messiahs’ bidding under what disguise of helping that bitchy fish of mine.”

Your thoughts halt for a moment as your eyebrows raise and you ask, “That bitchy fish of _yours_?”

Gamzee blinks once, then goes dark purple, his auricular shells and fins quickly following suit as he certainly notices what he just said. You continue, saying, “I know you three are together, but I think that’s the first I’ve heard you claim that either of them as _yours_ , and I know by now how that’s important to you for some confusing fucking reason.”

Gamzee grumbles with his gander bulbs closed, looking irritated and embarrassed, and you grin before letting him off easy for now, getting him back on topic as you say, “I think you were trying to make a different point right now though.”

Gamzee looks back at you, probably trying to remember where he left off before he says, “Last thing I wanna tell you about this star diamond business is.”

Gamzee halts, hesitating before taking a deep breath of air, grinning tensely as he says, “Stars are sacred as fuck to us clowns.”

You flinch slightly before slowly saying, “I’m not sacred and we’re not perfect, our particular brands of fucked up manage to mesh well together to make us both healthier and more balanced.”

Gamzee laughs, seeming to relax before he says, “See my bro, you say this shit, and you ain’t even understand all what it means when my faithful auricular sponge clots hear at it. To me it sounds as like you’re assuring that you ain’t nothing but a troll and the quadrant is what is being sacred, all of which is purest fucking truth. I know you mean it literal, but still, it’s so similar to what I know of in faith, it’s uncanny miraculous!”

You huff, and he stops laughing, grabbing your prong and raising it up to his face, kissing your palm like he did when this all started.

You take a breath, trying to think of what to say, before saying, “Gamzee I, I trust you and pity you, sometimes so much that it surprises _even me_. But that doesn’t change the fact that I trust you and pity you and I’m pale as, as sugar and clouds and moonlight and, and diamonds Gamzee. I can never find the words to fully or properly express my feelings for you, it’s, it’s just. I’m just, tremendously pale for you and that won’t ever change.”

Gamzee smiles widely and he says, “Praise to the Holy Mirthful Messiahs for giving onto me this quadrant mate. My star diamond, ain’t another ever gonna come and outshine you, brightest star. I’m gonna all treasure you for eternity.”

“Wait,” you ask, “You, you mean for as long as I’m alive, right?”

Gamzee blinks and frowns, “No? I mean, yes? Motherfuck bro, eternity means eternity. For as long as you live, for as long as I live, and for all of afterlife.”

“What the fuck,” you growl slightly, “No, what the fuck. You’re going to live hundreds of sweeps. We have no idea how long I’m going to live. I’m a fucking mutant. My life span could be less than the next fucking sweep, or as long or longer than Feferi’s. Then add on to that the fact that I have no idea if Condesce extended my lifespan like she did with Helmsman. Then there’s my fucking _job_ , I’m a threshecutioner, I could die fucking tomorrow Gamzee.”

“So could I,” he says sharply. You wince, and he goes on firmly, “Messiahs decide when things live or die, that includes trolls of any color. No matter who you are, anyone could die at any time, and them are just straight ass motherfucking facts.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you can’t just go without a moirail after I die,” you growl out, “you need to be taken care of and calmed. I can’t fucking do that if I’m dead, Gamzee.”

Gamzee frowns and mutters, “No promises on if I’d ever find another moirail if you do get to dying before me. If I do though, they wouldn’t ever replace you Karkat. If I live longer then you, Messiahs may decide to bring another diamond into my life, I may up and get into another moirallegiance. I may even eventually feel as they could be another worthy of the endearment of star diamond, who can say for certain but Messiahs. Even if all them things do get to happening, none of that means I’ll ever forget you or stop pitying you. You’re my palest brother for eternity, nothing will get to changing that.”

You both go silent for a second, before Gamzee quietly asks, “Unless, you, don’t want –?”

He trails off and you sigh as you say, “Gamzee, I don’t believe in an afterlife.”

“You,” Gamzee halts, pauses, then asks, “None at all?”

“No, I,” you mutter, “No, Gamzee.”

After another pause, where Gamzee seems at a loss of what to say, you look away and whisper, “Look, I know your belief won’t change, but at the same time, my belief isn’t going to change either. The best I can offer is if there does happen to be an afterlife, any kind of afterlife, I would hate it unless I got to spend it with you. Actually, I’d go so far as to say an afterlife would be fucking pointless and goddamn lonely if you’re not there with me. Also, as long as I know you, I’m always going to be pale as fuck for you.”

Gamzee sighs quietly before saying, “I gotta say as I suppose hearing that offer of yours makes me all selfishly happy. I won’t disrespect your beliefs on what existence of the afterlife Karkat, and I figure that’s fair due with all you allow me because of respect of my faith. What I’ll say in return is that as long as I know you, you’re going to be my best friend and star diamond, my most pitiful moirail. So do me a favor, and remember that no matter what, I’m gonna fucking pity you for all eternity and nothing will be to stop me.”

You hesitate before looking at him, grinning awkwardly and asking, “So basically we’re agreeing to disagree on an afterlife, but both still feel pale as diamonds for each other as long as we know each other?”

“Seems a fair enough compromise to me,” Gamzee replies with a soft smile.

You exhale in relief and flop back on the pile, saying, “Glad we came to this understanding.”

“Seems you’re still tired from last night,” Gamzee says, laying down and cuddling up next to you.

“Wait,” you say, “I need to –”

Gamzee yawns, making you yawn, _god damn it_ , “That’s low –”

“Peaceful dreams, best friend,” Gamzee murmurs.

You squirm and scream, “Gamzee don’t you dare –!”

A loud snore interrupts you and you spit, “That was so _fake_ , you motherfucker!”

Gamzee snorts and laughs as he continues to pretend to be asleep, not letting go of you. You lose your strength after a minute though, and fuck him, he’s right, you’re still fucking tired.

You give up, grumbling, “Fine, asshole, but only a short nap. Then I’m getting back up and working.”

Gamzee purrs and you think you both know that this is going to end up as more than a nap. Your moirail is the worst jerk to ever force you to take care of yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and with that, we've wrapped up the main story  
> i don't know yet if i'll write more and if i do it won't be a while  
> i need a break to refresh my brain ^^'  
> i feel sad about putting an end to it but, every story's gotta have one, right?  
> i hope you all enjoyed this along with me and are satisfied with the conclusion~~
> 
> edit: MORE FAN ART AAAAAAAA <33333333  
> https://ceabu.tumblr.com/post/181473293716/you-open-your-gander-bulbs-groggily-blinking-for


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